Aisha had always been the strong one, the one people leaned on for advice, the one who always had it together. But when her mother passed away suddenly, she felt lost. She didn’t know how to process the pain, so she kept going as if everything was fine. She smiled, nodded when people offered condolences, and kept busy. But at night, when she was alone, the weight of her grief was unbearable. One evening, sitting by her window, she whispered, “God, do you even see me?” The silence felt heavy, and she wondered if He was really there. The next morning, her grandmother, Mama Ife, showed up at her door unexpectedly. She didn’t ask how Aisha was feeling. She didn’t try to force her to talk. She just sat beside her, held her hand, and started humming an old Yoruba hymn about God’s love. No words. Just presence. And in that moment, Aisha felt something she hadn’t in weeks. She felt peace. Grief didn’t leave overnight, but she realized she wasn’t alone. God had never left her. Even in the silence, even in the moments she couldn’t pray, He was there holding her together.