Speaks through Him (2025)

14/07/2025

Lord, ako napud puhon.
Someday, it will be my turn.

To post that “finally” moment.
To whisper, “This is it. This is what I prayed for.”
To say, “Thank You, Lord, for the answered prayer.”

Ako napud puhon—
To graduate.
To land the job I’ve been praying for.
To be seen, chosen, and loved right.
To finally rest without guilt.
To not have to fake “I’m okay” every time someone asks.

Lord, I’m still holding on.
To the dreams I whispered through tears.
To the plans that seemed delayed but never fully died in my heart.
To the kind of life that feels far away—but not impossible with You.

Maybe not today.
Maybe not tomorrow.
But someday, I believe—
The doors will open.
The timing will align.
The weight will lift.
And I will see that none of the waiting was wasted.

But Lord, even if I can’t see it yet,
I believe You’re writing something for me too.

So I’ll keep showing up.
I’ll keep becoming.
I’ll keep trusting—
Even when it’s slow, even when it’s quiet,
Even when it feels like everyone else is getting ahead.

Lord, ako napud puhon.
And when that day comes,
I’ll look back and say—
“You were faithful all along.”

13/07/2025

🌱 Not Everyone Blooms at the Same Time

In a world that celebrates constant achievement, we forget that growth isn’t always linear. Some of us are In Crisis, some are Struggling, others are barely Surviving. And that’s okay.

The pressure to thrive and excel can be overwhelming—especially when you’re just trying to keep your head above water. Whether it’s anxiety, burnout, family problems, or simply being tired from holding it all together—your stage of growth is still valid. 🌿

Healing and progress look different for everyone.
You don’t owe anyone a flower when your roots are still finding strength.

And if all you did today was keep going—that’s enough.
You're doing better than you think.
You are still becoming. 🌸

12/07/2025

🌿 This is why we keep posting.

A few days ago, we received a message that touched us deeply:

We sat quietly after reading it.
Not because we didn’t know what to say—
but because, in that moment,
we remembered why we started this page in the first place.

We named it “Speak Through Him”
because we never wanted this to be about us.
We just wanted to be a vessel.
We knew from the start—
we have nothing special to offer unless God speaks through us.

And truthfully?
There have been many days we’ve felt empty.
Tired.
Unsure of what to post.
Sometimes we just want to stop.
Because it feels like no one is listening.

But then—
a message like this arrives.
Unexpected. Honest. Full of life.
And we realize all over again:
God is still moving.

Not just in the big, loud miracles—
but in the quiet ones, too.
In the posts we almost didn’t write.
In the words we thought were too simple to matter.
In the days we felt unseen and unsure.

And deep in our bones, we know:
It was never us.
It was always Him.

To the one who sent that message:
Thank you.
You reminded us why we started…
and why we’re still here.
You reminded us that healing still happens—
sometimes quietly, sometimes slowly—
but always with grace.

You reminded us that even when we don’t see the impact—
God does.
That even one post can become the hand someone is silently reaching for.

To the one reading this right now—

I don’t know what you’re carrying.
I don’t know what you’ve lost,
what you’ve buried,
or what you’re hiding behind that tired smile.

But please… hold this close:

You are not alone.

Even when the world feels heavy
and your prayers feel unanswered—
God is still near.

Even in the silence,
when the nights feel long
and your heart feels numb—
He is still speaking.

Maybe this post isn’t just another scroll.
Maybe it’s Him—
gently reaching for you,
reminding you that you’re not forgotten.
That He sees you.
That He still calls you His.

And to our fellow content creators—

Keep going.
Even if the likes are few.
Even if the shares are silent.
Even if you never hear the thank-yous.

Someone is healing because you didn’t stop.

We don’t post because we have something great to say.
We post because we know Someone greater wants to speak—
and we just want to make room for Him.

And if you’ve ever felt seen by something here,
just know:
We’re not perfect.
We’re not powerful.
We’re just people—
learning, day by day,
how to stay open enough
to let God speak through us.

Speaks through Him

11/07/2025

Hapy Sabbath🫶

10/07/2025

Trust the Light: Go, Slow, Stop—With God

Green means go.
And let’s be honest—that’s the season we love most.
We chase dreams. We meet deadlines.
We grab opportunities and run with them.
We move. We hustle. We show up—day after day—
because motion feels like purpose.
Productivity feels like progress.

And when everything is green,
it’s easy to believe we’re right where we need to be—
in control, on track, and moving forward.
It feels good to be in rhythm.
It feels right to keep going.

But life doesn’t stay on green forever.

Eventually, the pace changes.
The rhythm shifts.
The light changes.

Because life isn’t always about going.
Sometimes, God gently asks us to slow down.

That’s when yellow light appears—
a quiet reminder that not everything in life needs to be rushed.
It’s the gentle nudge we often ignore,
because slowing down feels like falling behind.
But yellow doesn’t mean failure—
it means protection.

It’s God’s way of saying,
“Not everything is urgent.
Not every yes is for right now.
Not every open door is meant to be walked through.”

In this space, God whispers:
“Slow down. I’m still working.”

Slowing down helps us catch what we missed while we were running.
It helps us check our hearts, reset our focus,
and hear God’s voice more clearly than before.

But if we keep ignoring the yellow—
if we keep pushing forward without slowing down,
we’ll find ourselves running into things we weren’t ready for,
facing consequences we could’ve avoided,
and crashing into moments we should’ve paused for.

And of course, life isn’t always about going or slowing down.
Sometimes, God brings us to a complete stop.

That’s where the red light comes in.
Red means stop.

And that’s not easy.
We wonder why the doors closed.
Why the momentum faded.
Why everything feels like it’s on hold.
But the red light isn’t rejection—it’s redirection.
It’s not punishment—it’s protection.
It’s a holy pause.

A moment to stop.
To breathe.
To rest the parts of us we’ve worn thin.
To reflect before we wreck.
To reset before we run.
To realize that not every delay is a dead end—
some are detours God designed for your good.

God’s red light is grace in disguise—
a place where He slows us down
just long enough to remind us:
You’re not in control, but you’re still in My care.

It’s in the stillness that He realigns our hearts,
renews our strength,
and teaches us to trust—
even when nothing seems to be moving.

And in His perfect timing—
just when we’ve learned to wait with faith—
the light turns green again.

And when it does,
you won’t just move forward quickly—
you’ll move forward with clarity,
with courage,
and with God.

So wherever you find yourself today—
going, slowing down, or stopping—
don’t just trust the process.
Trust the Light.

Because with God, every signal has a purpose.
And every season is leading you somewhere good.

You're not late.
You're not lost.
You're not left behind.

You're exactly where you need to be—
right in the middle of His timing.
Go, slow, or stop—just stay with Him.
Trust the Light.

Speaks through Him

09/07/2025

Lord, I’m tired.

Tired of pretending to be okay when I’m breaking inside.
Tired of giving so much of myself—and feeling like it’s never enough.
Tired of showing up with a smile, when my soul feels heavy and worn.
Tired of being the strong one, the dependable one, the one who never quits.
Tired of pouring out love and effort—only to feel empty in return.
Tired of chasing peace, while constantly battling silent storms.
Tired of holding on, when letting go feels easier.

But even in this weariness, I still believe—
You see me.
You’re with me.
I don't need to pretend I’m fine—but to come to you.
To come as I am—drained, fragile, undone.

So here I am, Lord.
Not with strength… but surrender.
Not with answers… but honesty.
Not with energy… but with empty hands reaching for You.

And maybe that’s enough for today.
To be reminded that even when I’m tired—
You never get tired of me.

07/07/2025

Some battles are fought in silence—
Not all wounds scream.
Some bleed quietly…
behind smiles,
in locked rooms,
in deep sighs at 2AM.

You keep showing up, even when no one checks in.
You carry weight no one sees, answer “I’m okay” when you’re breaking.
You cheer for others while you’re just trying to survive your own storm.

But listen…
Even the silent battles are seen by God.
Even the cries you never say out loud—He hears them.
Even the strength you borrow just to make it through the day—He notices.

You are not weak for feeling tired.
You are not faithless for needing rest.
You are not alone just because it's quiet.

God is in the silence with you.
Fighting for your peace.
Covering you in grace.
Holding your heart when it feels like it’s falling apart.

And if no one else tells you today—
You’re doing better than you think.
And God’s not done with you.

06/07/2025

Puhon… Someday…

God-willing, all the things we’ve prayed for,
hoped for, and quietly looked forward to
will come true.

Not in our rushed timing,
but in God’s perfect pace.

Because puhon is the silent belief that
even when the answers feel far,
there is still a someday.

And when that day comes—
we’ll look back and realize:
“This is what I’ve been praying for,
hoping for, and waiting for.”

So to those still holding on—
to the students,
the dreamers,
the heartbroken,
the lost,
the healing—

This is for you.
May your puhon come true.
Not all at once.
But gently.
Quietly.
Beautifully.

04/07/2025

1st Sabbath of the month. Blessed Sabbath to all.💗

03/07/2025

You’ll be okay.

Maybe not right now.
Maybe not tomorrow.
But one day—your chest won’t feel this heavy.
Your mind won’t race this fast.
And the pain you hide behind your smile…
won’t hurt as much.

You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t hurt.
You don’t have to be strong all the time.
He sees the nights you cry quietly.
The mornings you drag yourself out of bed.
The days you feel invisible in a room full of people.

So breathe.
You don’t have to fix everything.
You just have to stay.
One more day.
One more try.

Let God hold what you can’t.
Let Him carry the weight.
Let Him be your strength when you have none left.

Healing isn’t loud.
It’s quiet.
It’s messy.
It takes time.
But it’s real.

And it’s coming.

And one day, you’ll look back and see:
You made it.
You’re still here.
And even if everything isn’t perfect,
you… are okay.

So to the anxious, the heartbroken, the tired, the lost—
this is your reminder:
You’ll be okay.
This moment you’re in—it won’t last forever.
Because God is still writing your story.
And this page?
This isn’t the end.

You’ll be okay.
Maybe not quickly.
But gently.
Slowly.
and surely.
With God.

02/07/2025

I didn’t understand it at first—why it had to hurt this much.

Why life had to fall apart
when I was already trying so hard just to keep it together.
Why the more I prayed, the heavier it felt.
Why silence became the only answer I got.
Why I felt invisible—even to God.

I was doing everything I could.
Smiling in front of people.
Saying “I’m okay” when I wasn’t.
Trying to stay strong when inside, I was falling apart quietly.

There were days I couldn’t pray—
just stared at the ceiling, hoping God could read the tears I couldn’t put into words.
Nights when my chest felt too heavy to breathe.
And moments I whispered,
"Maybe I’m too broken to ever be whole again."

I thought pain was punishment.
That maybe I failed.
That maybe I wasn’t enough, strong enough, faithful enough or worthy enough.

But somewhere in the middle of the breaking—
God started showing me things I never saw before.

Pain let me see what’s real.
What peace actually feels likes.
And that not everything painful is meant to destroy…
sometimes, it’s meant to rebuild.
To reveal.
To transform

No, it didn’t make sense at first.
But now… I’m starting to understand that,

I’m still healing.
But I’m no longer hiding.

Because now I know—
It was the very pain I tried to pray away
that led me back to the heart of God.

01/07/2025

Lord, I’m not sure anymore.

I’m not sure if this career is still right for me.
I’m not sure if I’m healing or just learning how to hide the pain.
I’m not sure if this relationship is helping me grow or quietly breaking me.
I’m not sure if I still have it in me to keep going.
I’m not sure if I’m being strong… or just emotionally shutting down.
I’m not sure if I’m pursuing my purpose—or just doing what’s expected to survive.
I’m not sure if I’m becoming who You called me to be—or just who the world expects me to be.

But here’s what I am sure of—
You still see me.
You’re still with me.
You haven’t given up on me, even when I’m ready to give up on myself.
And Your grace still meets me right here—in the middle of all this uncertainty.

And maybe… that’s enough for today.
To be reminded that even when I’m not sure of myself—
You’re still sure of me.

Speaks through Him

14/07/2025

13/07/2025

12/07/2025

11/07/2025

10/07/2025

09/07/2025

07/07/2025

06/07/2025

04/07/2025

03/07/2025

02/07/2025

01/07/2025

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