Stories by Meeworld

That statement, “Do you know who I am?”, often comes from a place that is the opposite of what it tries to prove.

It tries to announce importance…only to end up revealing insecurity.

Think about it—
a person who truly knows who they are doesn’t need to borrow recognition from others.

They don’t need to raise their voice to raise their value.

Check out what my Mini-book on selar says following the link below.

https://selar.com/49clt2f224

We’ve all said it… or heard it before:

“Do you know who I am?”

But have you ever stopped to ask— what that moment truly reveals about you?

Not your title.
Not your achievements.
Not your name.

You.

I wrote this short piece to make you reflect on who you become when anger speaks for you.

It’s simple.
It’s deep.
And it might just change how you react forever.

Read it here 👇
https://selar.com/49clt2f224⁠�

EVEN IN SILENCE - "WHEN HEAVEN SEEMS QUIET"

There was a season in my life when I was meant to begin my Higher National Diploma 1 program (HND1).
Everything had been planned. My hopes were high, and my expectations were clear. It felt like the next step of my life was already waiting for me.

Then suddenly, everything collapsed right before my eyes.
Every plan I had made seemed to scatter. Efforts that once looked promising led nowhere. I reached out for help, but the helpers I trusted could not help. Doors I thought would open remained firmly shut. No matter how hard I tried, it felt as though something stronger was pushing every attempt down.

In the middle of it all, heaven felt strangely quiet.
I prayed—many times, in many ways. I sought God’s will with all the sincerity I could gather. Like David in the Scriptures, I asked, I waited, and I listened.

But nothing came.
No clear answer.
No sign.
No direction.
The silence slowly wore me down.
I became tired… then discouraged… and eventually weary in a way that words can hardly explain. At some point, I stopped struggling against it. I chose instead to withdraw quietly and wait.
Yet the quiet days did not make things easier.

Temptations that once stayed at a distance suddenly found their way to my door. Troubles seemed to arrive one after another, as if they knew exactly where to find me. Night after night, my pillow carried tears I could not show anyone else.
Inside my heart, there was an anger I could not fully understand—an ache that refused to settle.
Then, in the middle of that silence, a thought came to me as gently as a whisper.

“How can you judge me unfaithful?”
The question lingered.
Then another followed:
“Think of how far you have come. You did nothing special to get to where you are today?”

It was not a loud voice, but it was clear enough to quiet my restless thoughts.
In that moment, I began to see something differently.

My story was not the worst story anyone had ever lived. Neither was it the smallest. Yet through every stage that had brought me this far, God had been present.
The silence had not meant He was gone.
It meant that somewhere along the way, I had grown tired of pushing forward and trusting.
Faith, I realized, had never depended on constant reassurance.

The three Hebrew men did not wait for God to promise them safety before allowing themselves get thrown into the fiery furnace. They trusted that He would be there, whether He spoke or not.
And Job, even in the depth of suffering, still judged God faithful.

Remembering these things changed the way I looked at my own silence.
God had not abandoned the story of my life. He had simply allowed a quiet moment in it.

And sometimes, the quiet carries its own message.
Sometimes heaven is silent not because God has stepped away, but because He is asking the heart to do something harder than speaking.
To trust.
To wait.
And simply—
stay still.

© Hurricane Mimz🌹
Where thought storms the mind and settle in the heart.

© Miriam Umoren