IF WISHES WERE HORSES......

"Wish for something and watch it happen." "The universe listens." "Manifest it. Say it twice, thrice, and it will come to your feet." These are words that sound like morning hymns, familiar and comforting in theory. They are passed from mouth to mouth until they begin to feel like truth.We are told to wish for better things. But in reality, it often feels like the moment we are told to wish, life becomes heavier. Situations grow stagnant. Doors close. Flowers stop blooming. It begins to feel like we are pushing against something that refuses to move. And yet, we are still told to hope. But perhaps wishing only exists where hope still has space to breathe. In a country where all we do is wish. Wish. Wish. A country of survival. where people long for a better life, while systems seem built to resist that longing.The basic necessities of life in many places are luxuries here. What level of penury have we been reduced to? A country where many young people no longer wish, they only try to survive. Children no longer speak of becoming pilots, astronauts, or doctors with certainty. Dreams are quietly abandoned every day.It feels like hardship is concentrated here, like suffering has chosen a home. Everyone is against everyone.The poor measure themselves against other poor people, as though comfort has become relative. No one is wishing anymore. No one is hoping. Dreams are dying. People are dying. Do we ever get to wish and watch it come true?. "Let’s pray instead."The voices rise from pulpits every Sunday. "Things will change." "God will help us." "Our lives will improve." But the reality does not match the promise. "My daughter was kidnapped.""My son was kidnapped." "My husband." "My wife." "Our children are being held hostage." "Someone help us." And then another voice answers:"You are not praying enough." "Give a seed, and miracles will follow." The cycle continues. We have given so much already. It feels like we are now giving our families, our peace, our sense of safety. After so many hardships, we begin to remember what used to feel like struggle, and realize it was gentler than this. Yet we are still wishing. Wishing to become something without being told there are no paths waiting at the end. Wishing to own simple joys without being pushed into compromise. Wishing to move through our own country without fear attached to every journey. Wishing for safety. Wishing for rest. Wishing for one ordinary day that does not feel like survival. Is this the end times, or is it simply my country?Are we going to keep wishing until there is nothing left of us? I am tired of wishing. Can the universe intervene? Can it send a sign? Does the Creator still remember we are here? Or are we meant to carry the weight of sins we did not commit? Or is that just another story we use to survive the pain? If wishes were horses...If wishes were real... Would anyone still be standing?

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