Her kids sent to take refuge, this woman touchingly asked: "nyunj funj jem" (where are we headed). To new beginnings I said; just hang in there, kinder days are ahead, and hoping she doesn’t ask 'how,' because there's no denying that events are confounding. Being all the comfort I could offer broke my heart, but perhaps that’s all we got for now: ears to the ground, prayer, and something to hope for.
Even if ingenuity seems to be wearing out, consonance unable to prevail over dissonance, and even if emotions and pride cannot be punctuated with reason, we hope. We hope that because conflicts don't just happen but caused to, wills and hearts will take it when an opportunity to nip a potential conflict in the bud presents. We hope because the impact otherwise is incalculable, and because from the object, to the perp, to the bystander, everyone's a potential victim. Even as disappointing and even if all options considered seem unpleasant, we still hope in knowing that "God is sufficient for us, and He is the Best Disposer of affairs for us."
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