♾🤍 LOVE over FEAR ♾🤍
Diligere ex toto corde, et in tota anima...ƸɜƷ
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LOVE over FEAR Chat
56
Rekordlar
16.04.202523:59
5.1KObunachilar03.02.202504:31
1233Iqtiboslar indeksi24.03.202523:59
2.5KBitta post qamrovi24.03.202523:59
2.5KReklama posti qamrovi25.01.202510:33
322.22%ER29.11.202423:59
55.34%ERR
13.04.202511:43
There is a wonderful story about a man who once stood before God, and his heart was broken because of the pain and the injustice in the world.” Dear God, he cried out, “Look at all the suffering, anguish, and affliction in your world. Why don’t you send help?” God answered, “I have sent help. I have sent you.” When we tell this story to our children, we need to tell them that each one of them has been sent to help fix a broken world—and that this is not a moment or a year’s work, but a lifetime’s work.”
- David Wolpe
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
- David Wolpe
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
17.03.202522:39
The sea doesn’t ask who you are.
It simply receives — your thoughts, your tiredness, your silence.
The waves carry away what feels too heavy,
and the wind reminds you that everything flows.
And that even the storm quiets… eventually...🖤
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
It simply receives — your thoughts, your tiredness, your silence.
The waves carry away what feels too heavy,
and the wind reminds you that everything flows.
And that even the storm quiets… eventually...🖤
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
16.03.202502:38
A VERY INTERESTING STORY
I arrived at the client's address and honked. After waiting a few minutes, I honked again. It was late in the evening. I thought the client had changed his mind, and I would return to "base"... but instead, I parked the car, went to the door and knocked. "One minute!" a frail, elderly voice answered. I heard a sound like something being dragged across the floor...
After a long pause, the door opened. A short, ninety-year-old woman stood before me. She was wearing a colorful dress and a hat with a veil attached; she looked like someone from a movie, from the forties.
A small nylon suitcase was at her side. The apartment looked as if no one had lived there for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets of material. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or dishes on the counter. In the corner was a cardboard box, filled with photos and glass.
“Can you take my bag to the car?” she asked. I took my suitcase to the car, then went back to help the woman. She took my hand, and we walked slowly to the curb.
She held my arm, thanking me for my kindness. “That’s okay,” I said, “I try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.”
“Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said. When we got in the car, she gave me the address, then asked, “Can you go through the city center?”
“That’s not the quickest way,” I replied quickly, turning on the meter.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I'm on my way to the hospice."
I looked in the mirror. Her eyes were sparkling. "I have no family left," she said in a gentle voice. "The doctor says, I don't have much left..."
I turned off the meter... "Where do you want to go?"
We drove around the city for a few hours. She showed me the building, where she used to work as an elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood, where she and her husband lived as newlyweds. She asked me to stop at a furniture warehouse, that had once been a ballroom, where she had gone to dance as a young girl.
Sometimes, she would ask to slow down at a certain building or intersection, and she would sit staring into the darkness, silent.
As the first rays of sunlight broke the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go, please."
We drove in silence to the address indicated. It was a low building with a driveway, so typical of nursing homes.
Two orderlies came out, as soon as I pulled into the driveway. They must have been expecting her. They were polite and considerate.
I opened the trunk and carried the woman's small suitcase to the door. She herself was already placed in a wheelchair.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.
"Nothing," I replied.
"You have to earn a living," she protested.
"There are other passengers," I replied.
And without thinking at all about what I was doing, I leaned over and hugged her. She hugged me tightly.
"You gave the old lady a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."
I shook her hand and then stepped out into the morning darkness. The door closed behind me—the sound of a door closing— Life.
That morning, I didn't take any more passengers. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. What if the woman had been sent a rude driver, or impatient to finish his shift? What if I hadn't gone to the door, or had just honked once and then driven away?
Thinking about it now, I don't think I've done anything more important in my entire life.
We are addicted to seeking out exciting events and beautiful moments, with which we try to fill our lives.
Meanwhile, beautiful moments can come to us completely unexpected, wrapped in what others might call routine. Let's not miss them...
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
I arrived at the client's address and honked. After waiting a few minutes, I honked again. It was late in the evening. I thought the client had changed his mind, and I would return to "base"... but instead, I parked the car, went to the door and knocked. "One minute!" a frail, elderly voice answered. I heard a sound like something being dragged across the floor...
After a long pause, the door opened. A short, ninety-year-old woman stood before me. She was wearing a colorful dress and a hat with a veil attached; she looked like someone from a movie, from the forties.
A small nylon suitcase was at her side. The apartment looked as if no one had lived there for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets of material. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or dishes on the counter. In the corner was a cardboard box, filled with photos and glass.
“Can you take my bag to the car?” she asked. I took my suitcase to the car, then went back to help the woman. She took my hand, and we walked slowly to the curb.
She held my arm, thanking me for my kindness. “That’s okay,” I said, “I try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.”
“Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said. When we got in the car, she gave me the address, then asked, “Can you go through the city center?”
“That’s not the quickest way,” I replied quickly, turning on the meter.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I'm on my way to the hospice."
I looked in the mirror. Her eyes were sparkling. "I have no family left," she said in a gentle voice. "The doctor says, I don't have much left..."
I turned off the meter... "Where do you want to go?"
We drove around the city for a few hours. She showed me the building, where she used to work as an elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood, where she and her husband lived as newlyweds. She asked me to stop at a furniture warehouse, that had once been a ballroom, where she had gone to dance as a young girl.
Sometimes, she would ask to slow down at a certain building or intersection, and she would sit staring into the darkness, silent.
As the first rays of sunlight broke the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go, please."
We drove in silence to the address indicated. It was a low building with a driveway, so typical of nursing homes.
Two orderlies came out, as soon as I pulled into the driveway. They must have been expecting her. They were polite and considerate.
I opened the trunk and carried the woman's small suitcase to the door. She herself was already placed in a wheelchair.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.
"Nothing," I replied.
"You have to earn a living," she protested.
"There are other passengers," I replied.
And without thinking at all about what I was doing, I leaned over and hugged her. She hugged me tightly.
"You gave the old lady a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."
I shook her hand and then stepped out into the morning darkness. The door closed behind me—the sound of a door closing— Life.
That morning, I didn't take any more passengers. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. What if the woman had been sent a rude driver, or impatient to finish his shift? What if I hadn't gone to the door, or had just honked once and then driven away?
Thinking about it now, I don't think I've done anything more important in my entire life.
We are addicted to seeking out exciting events and beautiful moments, with which we try to fill our lives.
Meanwhile, beautiful moments can come to us completely unexpected, wrapped in what others might call routine. Let's not miss them...
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
Repost qilingan:
𝔹𝕃𝕌𝔼 𝕃𝕀𝕆ℕ 𝕄𝕌𝕊𝕀ℕ𝔾𝕊
30.03.202510:00
😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/EIrUCNGb2Ps
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/EIrUCNGb2Ps
02.04.202514:42
When life is spinning out of control, we feel that all is lost. But it is only the beginning of something new and better. As long as there is life, there is happiness. And there is still much happiness ahead.
- Chinese proverb
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
- Chinese proverb
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
27.03.202522:26
🖤🖤🖤
A man began to tell:
When my wife was sleeping next to me, one evening, I got a notification from Facebook... some girl sent me a friend request on FB.
So, I thought I'd see who it was...
I accepted the invitation and sent her a message asking: "who are you, do we know each other?"
She replied: "Hey, it's me, don't you remember me? I heard you got married".
We were texting for a while and at some point she wrote... "you know, I know I shouldn't write this, but I still miss you".
It was a girl from the past. She was a beautiful woman. We were close for a while. She changed. But, she could still be amazing.
I closed the chat, my wife was sleeping. What was I supposed to reply?
I looked at my darling. She was sleeping soundly, after an exhausting day.
When I looked at her, I thought - she sleeps so peacefully and safely.
Sometimes, she gets angry with me. Sometimes, she's fed up with all of us. Sometimes, I'm sick of her... 😉
All these thoughts came to my mind. So, I picked up the phone and pressed "BLOCK".
I turned to face her and fell asleep next to her. Because, I'm a man who doesn't cheat on his wife and doesn't break up the family... ❤️
Unknown
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
A man began to tell:
When my wife was sleeping next to me, one evening, I got a notification from Facebook... some girl sent me a friend request on FB.
So, I thought I'd see who it was...
I accepted the invitation and sent her a message asking: "who are you, do we know each other?"
She replied: "Hey, it's me, don't you remember me? I heard you got married".
We were texting for a while and at some point she wrote... "you know, I know I shouldn't write this, but I still miss you".
It was a girl from the past. She was a beautiful woman. We were close for a while. She changed. But, she could still be amazing.
I closed the chat, my wife was sleeping. What was I supposed to reply?
I looked at my darling. She was sleeping soundly, after an exhausting day.
When I looked at her, I thought - she sleeps so peacefully and safely.
Sometimes, she gets angry with me. Sometimes, she's fed up with all of us. Sometimes, I'm sick of her... 😉
All these thoughts came to my mind. So, I picked up the phone and pressed "BLOCK".
I turned to face her and fell asleep next to her. Because, I'm a man who doesn't cheat on his wife and doesn't break up the family... ❤️
Unknown
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
24.03.202523:25
IN A WORLD THAT MISTAKES ROLE REVERSAL FOR LIBERATION,
TRUTH BECOMES A REVOLUTION.
For thousands of years, women were the guardians of life.
They carried a strength that needed no paycheck to prove its worth—
because it was priceless.
They created homes, brought warmth, healed with words, prayer, and touch.
They watched over the fire.
They were the safe haven to which one returns from the battles of the world.
Today, they are told that their role is worthless unless it brings profit.
That motherhood is a prison.
That care is weakness.
That a ‘free woman’ must be hard, alone, and exhausted—
cut off from her roots.
And men?
They are told to bend, to silence their strength,
to abandon their courage and warrior spirit—
as if leadership, protection, and steadfastness were flaws instead of sacred gifts.
BUT A WOMAN IS NOT A FATHER.
AND A FATHER IS NOT A MOTHER.
THIS IS NOT A PROBLEM—
IT IS HARMONY.
The mother carries life—and light.
She watches over the hearth, over the heart of the home.
She is the soul’s first shelter.
Her mission is to protect the inner world.
Her gentleness creates safety.
Her intuition carries the wisdom of generations.
The father is a warrior.
The defender of the threshold.
He rises when danger comes near.
He stands at the gate—literally and symbolically.
He offers structure, courage, clarity, and direction.
One cannot replace the other—
because they are meant to complement, not compete.
When the system uproots these archetypes,
it does not do so in the name of freedom,
but in the name of control.
It separates us from who we are,
so we forget our power—
and become easier to manage.
TRUE FREEDOM IS A RETURN TO TRUTH.
To the woman as mother, guardian, and source.
To the man as protector, guide, and foundation.
To the order that was given to us—
not invented by the system.
This is not regression.
This is going deeper.
Back to the well.
Back to the Source.
"When a woman becomes who she truly is—
the world begins to heal.
And when a man remembers who he was created to be—
the world regains its strength."
A.R
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
TRUTH BECOMES A REVOLUTION.
For thousands of years, women were the guardians of life.
They carried a strength that needed no paycheck to prove its worth—
because it was priceless.
They created homes, brought warmth, healed with words, prayer, and touch.
They watched over the fire.
They were the safe haven to which one returns from the battles of the world.
Today, they are told that their role is worthless unless it brings profit.
That motherhood is a prison.
That care is weakness.
That a ‘free woman’ must be hard, alone, and exhausted—
cut off from her roots.
And men?
They are told to bend, to silence their strength,
to abandon their courage and warrior spirit—
as if leadership, protection, and steadfastness were flaws instead of sacred gifts.
BUT A WOMAN IS NOT A FATHER.
AND A FATHER IS NOT A MOTHER.
THIS IS NOT A PROBLEM—
IT IS HARMONY.
The mother carries life—and light.
She watches over the hearth, over the heart of the home.
She is the soul’s first shelter.
Her mission is to protect the inner world.
Her gentleness creates safety.
Her intuition carries the wisdom of generations.
The father is a warrior.
The defender of the threshold.
He rises when danger comes near.
He stands at the gate—literally and symbolically.
He offers structure, courage, clarity, and direction.
One cannot replace the other—
because they are meant to complement, not compete.
When the system uproots these archetypes,
it does not do so in the name of freedom,
but in the name of control.
It separates us from who we are,
so we forget our power—
and become easier to manage.
TRUE FREEDOM IS A RETURN TO TRUTH.
To the woman as mother, guardian, and source.
To the man as protector, guide, and foundation.
To the order that was given to us—
not invented by the system.
This is not regression.
This is going deeper.
Back to the well.
Back to the Source.
"When a woman becomes who she truly is—
the world begins to heal.
And when a man remembers who he was created to be—
the world regains its strength."
A.R
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
18.03.202500:28
Never before has hatred brought peace. Never before has fear brought healing. Never before has war brought harmony. And yet, people still believe that fire can put out fire.
We live in a time where shadows are rising loudly. Fear is fanned, words become weapons, divisions are deepening, and many people are caught in a vortex of anger, jealousy, greed, hatred, and envy.
But, isn’t it pernicious to think that these energies will bring change? That when we respond to hate with hate, the world miraculously turns to the light?
Our calling is not to nurture shadows, but the light. It is not about being blind to the world, but to consciously choose the frequency we bring into it. Because, what we emit becomes a network that connects us all.
Sitting here, in our safe place, surrounded by food, warmth, and peace, we think we know what is happening, thousands of miles away. But, we hear only distorted voices, stories that have passed through many filters. We do not see the whole picture, but we see what is happening around us: our families, our neighbors and the community in which we live.
If we want to see peace in the world, we must first cultivate it within ourselves. If we demand love, we must first live it. Each in his place, each according to his strength. We are not powerless, for true power does not lie in pointing out the darkness, but in holding our own light, even when the storm rages.
May we have the courage to choose good and clear thoughts, to speak carefully and to have open hearts. Because, in a world where fear and hatred are sown, the greatest magic is love and trust.
- Maria Solva Roithinger
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
We live in a time where shadows are rising loudly. Fear is fanned, words become weapons, divisions are deepening, and many people are caught in a vortex of anger, jealousy, greed, hatred, and envy.
But, isn’t it pernicious to think that these energies will bring change? That when we respond to hate with hate, the world miraculously turns to the light?
Our calling is not to nurture shadows, but the light. It is not about being blind to the world, but to consciously choose the frequency we bring into it. Because, what we emit becomes a network that connects us all.
Sitting here, in our safe place, surrounded by food, warmth, and peace, we think we know what is happening, thousands of miles away. But, we hear only distorted voices, stories that have passed through many filters. We do not see the whole picture, but we see what is happening around us: our families, our neighbors and the community in which we live.
If we want to see peace in the world, we must first cultivate it within ourselves. If we demand love, we must first live it. Each in his place, each according to his strength. We are not powerless, for true power does not lie in pointing out the darkness, but in holding our own light, even when the storm rages.
May we have the courage to choose good and clear thoughts, to speak carefully and to have open hearts. Because, in a world where fear and hatred are sown, the greatest magic is love and trust.
- Maria Solva Roithinger
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
03.04.202521:51
I have always existed, and here I am; and, I will exist until the end of time, for my existence is timeless, without end...
- Khalil Gibra
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
- Khalil Gibra
https://t.me/OnlyFaithOverFear
Ko'proq funksiyalarni ochish uchun tizimga kiring.
