Still seeing in the dark.

  There’s something about a thunderstorm that quiets the noise inside me. Right now, as I sit in my chair by the window, the sky is putting on one of its most beautiful displays—thunder cracking through the clouds, lightning flashing across the sky like heaven’s handwriting, and distant rumbles rolling in behind it all. I’m in my element. This… this is my favorite kind of weather. I love to sit by the window when it storms. I could sit here for hours just listening. The crackles, the loud booms, the deep rumbling that feels like it’s coming from inside the earth itself—it all speaks to something in me. It’s wild and powerful, yet somehow it brings me peace. My mom tells me not to open the window because it lets in the hot air, and she’s right. But sometimes, I just want to hear the storm clearly . There’s something about hearing those deep rumbles that makes me feel close to something bigger than myself—like nature is reminding me that I’m not alone, and I never was. Tonigh...

  Post: Still seeing in the dark. Everything is brightening up now — it’s a nice bright white, with little yellow stringers moving about. The light actually started last night while I was listening to my smooth jazz — Grover Washington Jr., Spiro Gyra… that early seventies sound I love. I let it play until I was tired enough to drift off. There’s something about that music that settles the soul. And this morning, I had the sweetest time with my stepdad again, as always. We went downstairs just after five, and were back up before seven-thirty. I sipped my coffee slowly while we sat together and listened to a few good songs. I always look forward to mornings like these — the quiet, the music, and the company.

Still Seeing in the Dark Everything is brightening up now. The dark has turned into a soft, bright white, with little yellow streamers dancing through it. This morning, like many others, started early — we went downstairs just after five, and came back up before seven-thirty. I sipped my coffee slowly while sitting with my stepdad. We didn’t say much, but we shared the kind of calm that speaks louder than words. Some beautiful songs played while we sat there, and I held onto the moment. I always look forward to mornings like these. They remind me: even in the dark, there's always a little light waiting to shine. Quote: “Even the quietest mornings can carry the loudest peace.”  

🌙 The Quiet That Lets Me Rest Still seeing in the dark. Sometimes this peace even affects my hearing. And honestly, sometimes that’s a good thing—because it allows me to rest better. Especially at night, or in the late evening, if I’m not listening to any audiobooks on my phone. It’s like the stillness wraps around me and says, “You don’t have to take in anything else right now. Just be still. Just rest.” It’s just like having my own yoga without all the exercises. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” —Matthew 11:28 — Still Seeing in the Dark Kamala’s Diary  

🕯️ Candlelight in the Dark Still seeing in the dark. It’s still dark, with the yellow floaters stringing by slowly—but that’s okay. Talking to my grandma while taking care of her, bringing her soda, and collecting her dinner dishes took my mind off the darkness I was seeing. The yellow… it reminds me of candles—just like you beautifully put it this afternoon. Soft. Quiet. Comforting. Even in the dark, that gentle light is still moving. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” —John 1:5 — Still Seeing in the Dark Kamala’s Diary  

📝 Why I Write Still seeing in the dark. As I’m writing this, it’s still dark—with the yellows moving slowly in tiny stringers. This is why I love to write. Not only does it relax me, but it also helps keep my mind sharp. That’s the best part: Writing helps me practice my spelling and my grammar. It keeps me focused. It gives me peace. “You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you.” —Isaiah 26:3 — Still Seeing in the Dark ✍🏾 Kamala’s Diary                      

  🕯️ A Different Kind of Light Even though it’s still dark, I keep seeing tiny yellows. I don’t understand it fully—but I know I’m not sad. I’m not upset. There’s nothing wrong. It’s just… not bright like it was on Sunday. But maybe that’s okay. Darkness doesn’t always mean sadness. Sometimes it means stillness. A kind of quiet that holds me. Like soft candlelight in a quiet room. Gentle. Present. A pause that doesn’t demand anything of me. Maybe this is another kind of light—one that doesn’t shine loud, but flickers steady. And maybe this too is holy. “The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” —Zephaniah 3:17 — Still Seeing in the Dark ✨ Kamala’s Diary