Sometimes when the day is dreary, all you need is just one tiny spark of hope.

A family problem, though not quite settled yet, can finally be put aside today. It all happened very quickly: Fights were brought up, God spoke, and things changed. And a very dear relative called today sobbing, and the frustration and gloom we all experienced yesterday were instantly alleviated. Praise God!

Today, I finally appreciated the beauty of struggling. The feeling like thrashing about in a tangled net, where it feels like the more you struggle the more you get caught inside. The one that makes you messed up, confused, frustrated, angry, torn up, useless, unloved, suffocated; sometimes to the point where you ask for death so things could be less complicated.

But it is these kind of situations where I learnt to stop moving about trying to find the exit; instead, I learnt to sit there and stop. And think in silence. To pray until something happens. To grasp on to the faith that God will surely bless me and not let go. To cry and cry like there's an ocean of tears just waiting to be released out of your body, then to sit and contemplate quite clearly after that. To be able to smile, even when things are not over or less complicated yet, even when there's another storm waiting to smother you.

My grandmother, who seems to think she has nothing left, came crying to my mum yesterday, only to end her lament with a few words: " My two grandchildren are very caring to me. "

My mum replied, " So hang on. Watch them succeed in life! "

My grandmother smiled. She nodded.

What was hope for her, gave hope to me too.