The First Flicker of Calm

 It happened quietly.

No thunder. No revelation. No sudden “everything makes sense” moment.

Just… silence.

A silence that didn’t hurt this time.

I was sitting by the window, the sky still bruised from dawn, and for a moment — just one — my heart stopped trembling.

No overthinking, no rehearsed prayers, no tears.

Only stillness.

And I realized… maybe that’s how Allah sends His mercy.

Not always in miracles, but in moments like this — when the chaos pauses long enough for you to feel the faint rhythm of peace again.

For months I’ve been begging, “Ya Allah, please help me get out of this mess.”
And maybe He didn’t pull me out — maybe He’s pulling me through.

Through the exhaustion, through the heartbreak, through the wreckage of everything I thought I was.

And maybe that’s mercy too — because if He let me escape too early, I’d never learn what it means to truly surrender.

I still don’t understand His plan.

I still have nights where I question everything —why it had to be me, why it had to hurt this much.

But now, when I cry, there’s something different in it.

It’s not just despair anymore.
It’s a strange kind of acceptance — a whisper that says, “Okay Ya Rabb, if this is what You’ve written, I’ll endure it.”

And in that surrender, there’s a quiet power.

A calm I didn’t think I’d ever find again.

It doesn’t mean the pain’s gone.

It’s still here — the memories, the ache, the echoes of people who left too soon.

But now, it feels… lighter.

Like I’m no longer fighting the storm,just learning how to stand in it without breaking.

Sometimes I still fall apart.

Sometimes I still whisper, “I can’t do this anymore.”

But deep down, I know I will —because every time I thought I couldn’t survive,
Allah proved me wrong. 

Maybe that’s faith — not the absence of pain, but the courage to believe that pain has meaning.

And tonight, as I close my eyes, I finally feel it — the first flicker of calm.

Small, trembling, but real.

Alhamdulillah, for that.