There are days when it feels like loss wins.
When hope drifts too far out to see, and
every breath feels like another battle you
didn't want to fight.
There are days when everything good seems
too fragile to last.
When the weight of sorrow makes it hard to
stand.
When faith feels like ashes in your hands in-
stead of fire in your bones.
And still—the light endures.
Not because we are strong.
But because Christ has already conquered
the very thing that claws at us in the silence.
Death has no victory here.
Despair has no final say.
The sting of grief is real—but it is not forever.
The story will not end in ruins.
It will end in redemption.
Until then, we rise.
We carry our scars like banners.
We laugh with Paul.
We cling to the God who promised that even
the darkest nights will one day break into
unshakable morning.
Still standing.
Still hoping.
Still His.
"Death is swallowed up in victory.
O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?"
1 Corinthians 15:54–55
—Elion
"Victory is not in never falling,
but in refusing to give up even
when the world grows dark."
—Elion