A Flicker in the Storm

In the depths of despair and the shadows of doubt

The soul is burdened and the spirit worn out

Anxiety grips like a vise, a relentless foe

And in the heart, the seeds of self-hate grow

But in the midst off the storm, a glimmer of light

A flicker of hope, burning ever so bright

For within the soul, resilience does dwell

A strength that no darkness can ever quell

Hear the whispers of love and gentle grace

Embrace the wounded child, in this sacred space

Let the tears flow, let the healing begin

For in vulnerability, new strength lies within

There are moments when the weight of the world presses in so tightly, it feels like breathing itself takes effort. The poem above was born from one of those moments—when anxiety grips hard and the seeds of self-hate take root in the silence. It's easy to believe, in those times, that the darkness will last forever. That this storm might be the one to finally break you.

But I've learned something important: it never does.

I've been through a lot in my life. And while I may be facing what feels like a ginormous test right now—one of those situations that knocks the wind out of you and makes you question everything—I also know this truth deep in my bones: I’ve been through worse. I’ve clawed my way out of deeper pits than this, and every time, I’ve come out with more grit, more wisdom, and more faith.

What I’ve come to realize is that vulnerability doesn’t mean weakness. In fact, it’s where true strength is born. The ability to cry, to break down, to ask for help, to feel everything so deeply—it’s not a flaw. It’s part of what makes healing possible.

This poem is a reminder to myself and anyone reading that the storm doesn’t last. That even when doubt and despair feel all-consuming, there’s a flicker of light within. A whisper of resilience. A wounded child inside us all, still worthy of love and healing. And maybe, just maybe, when we stop running from that pain and instead hold it gently, we make room for something new to grow.

I don’t know exactly how this current season of my life is going to unfold, but I do know that I will survive it. I always do. And one day, I’ll look back and see this moment not as the end—but as the turning point.

—Let the tears flow. Let the healing begin.

A flicker in the storm is simply an epiphany, a realization, or the irony in something.