Prayer has held us when nothing else could.When the world closed its ears.When justice was denied.When even our own voices trembled in silence—praye
Prayer has held us when nothing else could.
When the world closed its ears.
When justice was denied.
When even our own voices trembled in silence—
prayer remained.
For many Survivors, prayer is not weakness.
It is how we keep breathing.
It is how we rise when no one claps.
It is how we hold on when hands let go.
Prayer doesn’t have to be perfect.
It doesn’t need big words or sacred buildings.
It can be a whisper. A cry. A deep sigh. A dance.
It can be lying still with a hand on your heart.
Some days, prayer is the only place we are believed.
The only place we are free to feel everything.
The only place we are reminded:
We are never truly alone.
To pray as a Survivor is to tell the truth.
To speak what was unspeakable.
To call our names sacred again.
And even if your faith looks different now—
even if it cracked and reshaped—
your prayers still matter.
You still matter.
Speak when you can.
Weep if you need.
Listen always.
Your spirit knows the way.
— SurvivorAffirmations.com
I am heard—even when I whisper, even when I weep, even when I can’t find the words.
My spirit speaks in sacred language.I am not alone. Love surrounds me, even in the silence.
I am held by something greater than fear.Each time I pray, I remind my soul that it is safe to hope again.
Hope is not foolish. Hope is holy.I am allowed to bring my whole self into sacred spaces—anger, grief, joy, and all.
None of me is too much for prayer.I am guided by light, even when I walk through shadows.
Healing is my path, and I am not lost.
