Unveiling Miracles

By Venus Karimi

Unveiling Miracles: A Journey of Immigration, from Modeling to Homelessness, and the Power of Resilience" is a gripping and inspiring memoir that takes you on a remarkable journey through the life of Venus. In this compelling narrative, Venus bares her soul, sharing the highs and lows of her life, a testament to the extraordinary power of resili

• Language: English
• Publisher: Venus Karimi
• Release date: Mar 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9798869192592

Book preview

Unveiling Miracles

A Journey of Immigration,

From Modeling to Homelessness, and The Power of Resilience

Venus Karimi

Copyright © 2024

All Rights Reserved

ISBN: 979-8-89212-417-1

Contents

Chapter 1: Broken Dreams: A Journey from Darkness to Redemption

Chapter 2: Lessons Learned and Doubts Arise: Navigating Trust and Sincerity

Chapter 3: The Wedding Day and Disappointments

Chapter 4: Destiny’s Trials: Navigating Life’s Unbearable Challenges and Embracing Spiritual Growth

Chapter 5: Shadows of Alliance and Self-Discovery

Chapter 6:  A Turbulent Journey: From Welcome to Eviction

Chapter 7: Navigating Uncertainty: From One Temporary Shelter to Another

Disclaimer: The following book is based on true events. However, to protect the privacy and confidentiality of individuals involved, the names and certain identifying details have been changed. Therefore, every name that is used is not a real name. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1: Broken Dreams: A Journey from Darkness to Redemption

In the Name of My Lord the Almighty

To be, or not to be, that is the question.

- William Shakespeare

God, help me know. Can I ever stand up again?

In sharing my autobiography, I hope to inspire others to embark on their own journeys of self-reflection and spiritual growth. May my experiences serve as a beacon of hope and encourage readers to foster love, faith, devotion, and gratitude in their lives. Together, let us strive to bring forth.

Frequently, I ponder the unpredictable nature of life and how it can swiftly veer off course, leading us far from our intended path. Such unforeseen misfortunes befell me on my arrival in the land of dreams, the United States, which swiftly transformed into a personal prison.

The United States, abbreviated as the U.S.A, is the landmine of opportunities, where people from different disciplines come and try their luck in either getting the best possible education or making the most out of their careers – ones that more often than not are attributed to hard work, but sometimes, a certain factor of divine’s help also plays a critical role in allowing people to make their mark in a foreign land. Amidst the chaos, I felt a divine power to be with me throughout my journey, which helped me to steer past the calamitous trails that my wretched fate took me on. With everything staying the same, it wouldn’t have been possible for me to write this story if the unseen hand of God had cast its shadow upon me through the days that I endured.

My name is Venus, and I am from a respectable family endowed with financial stability. In my homeland, I flourished as an interior designer, and with my partner, I owned a successful construction equipment import business.

Modeling, a passion of mine, served as a creative outlet alongside my other endeavors.

I loved suggesting to people how they could put colors in their homes, unmindful of the fact that in the future, I would be the one yearning to find an iota of peace somewhere- a kindle, a ray, or maybe some stranger holding my hand to extract me out from the deep hole of darkness.

However, those days were marked with utmost cheers, as I would often find myself engrossed with different personnel on a daily basis, where I was massively lauded for the creative ideas that helped them in revamping the style and themes of their homes, with me putting in extra ounces of focus on detailing that made me a sought-after interior designer. As fate intervened, I had no idea where the unwritten book of pre-written fate would take me. In those days, if someone had told me everything would change in the blink of an eye, I would have laughed at his face, as life was on a pretty smooth track, with no signs of veering off course in the future.

And off it went, soon…

My parents departed from this world as soon as life started to shower me with its blessings, and as fate would have it, leaving me with siblings absorbed in their own families.

The doctors confirmed that my father had succumbed to a heart attack, which was really unfortunate and hard for us to cope with. However, as we were on the track to heal from such loss, my mother followed his footsteps, as she was also battling pulmonary and heart conditions, which ultimately ended up claiming her life.

Looking back, despite it happening many years ago, I feel the reel of those days playing right before my eyes. I remember how, bereft of both parents, I was burdened with a deep ache in my chest, a sense of loneliness, and an insatiable longing for a new family. It would have been even harder for me to survive in those days if, somehow, God had not held me up in his fatherly embrace, making my heart grow stronger. It was bad enough for me to have such a big loss of parents at such a tender age, but as I feel it now, it was an omen for me for what was to come, as it prepared me for the worst.

Amidst the hurdle of existence, my soul embarked upon a pilgrimage—a journey that transcended mere mortal footsteps. The compass of fate pointed westward, and I, a wanderer, surrendered to its silent call. Once adorned with earthly riches and familial warmth, my life now lay shattered like fragments of forgotten constellations.

My life took a downward spiral when I made the life-altering decision to marry and embark on a new chapter in the United States. These six and a half years of my existence were fraught with the darkest and most harrowing experiences imaginable. Every fiber of my being, from flesh to bone and skin cells, bore witness to the agony I endured. Divorced and devoid of familial support, friends, financial stability, a green card, or a work permit—I was thrust into the abyss of homelessness, a fate I never envisioned, even in my most haunting nightmares.

Effectively, here, shadows danced upon my skin, and the marrow of my bones absorbed tales of anguish. It was as if some unseen thorn was always stopping me from forging ahead. My family constantly dwelled in a beautiful home, and I owned a comfortable house in my native land. Now, my lifestyle had been irrevocably upturned, and my world lay in ruins. I didn’t get to spend even one percent of my life in America as compared to the one that I had in Iran.

As I reflect upon the situation, it becomes apparent that if he possessed even a shred of love, empathy, conscience, and integrity within him, he could never have subjected someone who loved and trusted him unconditionally to such oppression and cowardice. It compelled me to leave behind my home, life, country, and all the comforts I once had. I relinquished all—home, hearth, and heritage—upon an altar of faith. Emotions carved pathways across oceans, leading me to foreign shores where kinship was but a whisper in the wind. No relatives awaited me; no friends extended their arms. Financial resources dwindled like grains of sand slipping through desperate fingers. Yet hope clung to my spirit—an ethereal companion—as I stepped onto this alien soil.

Marco’s treatment towards me was unforgivably cruel, selfish, and horrifying. I had a life of my own, thriving as an interior designer and importing building interiors alongside my partner. Additionally, I worked as a model, collaborating with renowned Persian brands and enjoying a prosperous financial situation. However, my current reality has forced me into homelessness, surrounded by a community where approximately 95% of the women either suffer from severe psychological issues, struggle with addiction to alcohol or drugs, or have a criminal record involving violence and danger. As I found myself in the midst of the abyss, surrounded by darkness and hopelessness, I felt a gentle presence by my side. It was the absolute presence of God, who never once abandoned me. Through the depths of my trials, I learned invaluable lessons that I could never have learned elsewhere. I bore witness to miracles that, at the time, seemed impossible.

Despite my aversion to writing, the drastic shift in circumstances compelled me to chronicle my journey in the form of a book and poetry. Every page was filled with the lessons I had learned, my deepest emotions laid bare for all to see.

Through my struggles, I learned there was much more to life than surviving. I learned that there was a greater purpose for my existence, that I was meant for something more. And it was through my faith in God that I found the strength to carry on.

I firmly believe in the inherent moral compass within each human being, and this belief kept me going during my darkest hours. I felt compelled to utilize my life experiences to shed light on the human condition and show others that there is always hope, even in the darkest times. Through my strong faith in God, I could find meaning and purpose in my struggles. I hope my story will inspire others to find strength in their faith, never give up, and always believe that there is a greater purpose for their lives by leveraging my life experiences to shed light on the human condition.

As it happened, I wandered—a seeker without maps or compasses. I found myself wandering on streets where neon signs flickered like distant stars. Each step resonated with cosmic echoes—the pulse of humanity seeking solace beyond flesh and bone. In this desolation, spirituality bloomed—an oasis amidst concrete deserts.

During these bleak and arduous times, I discovered the indomitable strength within the human spirit. Although my penmanship was born out of turmoil, it became a transformative outlet, a vessel for sharing my story and capturing the essence of my struggles.

As I conclude this chapter of my life, I reflect upon my immense hardships—a journey that unfolded from hope. My path diverged dramatically from the one I envisioned, but it has led me to find a new purpose and faith in the resilience of the human spirit. The tale of my broken dreams is a testament to the strength within us all, requesting readers to find solace and inspiration amidst their own trials.

In sharing my story, I hope to offer a lifeline to those who have encountered their problems, reminding them that they are not alone. Life’s unexpected turns may push us into darkness, but we can find the seeds of hope and the strength to rebuild within the depths. May my journey inspire others to reclaim their dreams and ignite the fire of resilience that lies within their souls.

My experiences of residing in other people’s homes for six and a half years have taught me valuable lessons about appreciating and tolerating each other. I want to share these experiences with others so that they may benefit and grow. I believe the key to a fulfilling life lies in leading a spiritual existence, which is why I have taken the time to reflect on my values and ethics. My motivation for recording my experience as a hard copy of this book is to offer powerful and valuable experiences, trusting that they reverberate with each peruse.

From early on, I developed ethics, appreciation, and esteems that have directed me through life. Diving into spirituality, self-information, and writing about how I might interpret presence. Instead of relegating fault, I’ve embraced a mentality that sees issues as open doors for development and learning. Sympathy has permitted me to grasp the aggravation of others, liberating me from outrage or hatred. These disclosures have changed my point of view on private and relational difficulties.

In the shelter for souls adrift—a refuge where hunger met compassion—I glimpsed eternity’s face. Beneath flickering bulbs and frayed blankets lay stories etched in stardust: lives once radiant, now dimmed by circumstances. Their eyes held galaxies—their tears quenched cosmic fires.

The honor of composing this book lowers me. Helping other people has forever been my obsession. I routinely gave financial help to the Children Foundation Charity, which supports gifted children facing financial obstacles. As a member, you can select deserving kids and contribute monthly, allowing them to pursue their education and nurture their talents. Rest assured that your contributions are securely channeled to each child’s dedicated account. Together, we can make a lasting impact, empowering these young individuals and shaping a brighter future. Join us on this remarkable journey of compassion and transformation.

The delight in their voices and their requests made me exuberantly pleased with satisfaction and love. Indeed, even after moving to the US, I guaranteed they proceeded with learning through the help of my companions.

Despite every turmoil, morals and unselfishness stay ardent in my life’s way of thinking. Through this book, I desire to move others to embrace a comparable obligation to aiding those out of luck. Allow my excursion to act as a beam of expectation for the wandering individuals, enlightening their way towards a more merciful and satisfying presence. For me, beneath the weight of homelessness rested an altar—an invitation—to touch eternity’s hem. And as dawn painted the sky with hues borrowed from celestial palettes, I whispered gratitude to the universe: In this unraveling lies redemption; in this surrender blooms divinity.

And so it was.

And so it shall be.

In the whisper of the eternal dawn.

On June 3rd, 2017, at 2:46 p.m., I found myself seeking refuge in a women’s shelter following a series of difficult circumstances since my arrival on April 4th. These experiences have inspired me to chronicle my life in an autobiography intended for those who face or may encounter homelessness and disasters and those who live in comfortable and secure conditions. I aim to share the harrowing, bitter, sorrowful, dark, frightening, and unfortunate situations I have endured over the past six years. I am grateful for my current shelter, realizing that my situation could be even more dire.

Let us remember that while we may encounter difficult times, we are never alone. The human spirit is indomitable and resilient, capable of rising above any challenge. Together, let us embrace the rhymes of our souls initiated by the divine’s guidance and help those in need, impacting the world around us. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer once remarked, God does not grant us everything we desire, but He does fulfill His promises, guiding us along the best and most direct paths to Himself.

As I turn back the clock thoroughly to pen down this description of the shelter, I can’t help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for the individuals who mustered the courage to call this place home, which, unfortunately, I never could.

Regarding the physical aspects of the shelter, it is situated in downtown Santa Ana—surrounded by bustling car repair shops and household appliance stores. The facility accommodates thirty women, two men, and numerous cats and dogs.

The constant noise from daytime traffic and nocturnal sounds of trains, helicopters, airplanes, and police sirens make it challenging to find restful sleep.

Originally established by the Catholic Church, the shelter has a rich history of supporting homeless families in need. It previously accommodated homeless families consisting of approximately 40 individuals. However, in order to better serve the community and avoid conflicts, it was eventually designated exclusively for homeless women. The building itself is two stories tall and has a charmingly aged exterior with green and white accents. But it’s what’s inside that truly counts.

The two-story house is aged, featuring green and white exteriors and cream and brown interior walls. An entrance adorned with a white figurine of Mary and Jesus greets visitors. The surrounding area is filled with trees, plants, and benches, creating a peaceful oasis amidst the urban chaos. A large table displaying announcements sits to the right, while the staircase leading to the second floor is situated on the left. The second-floor entrance is inaccessible to us as it is occupied by Linzi, her husband, and volunteer Donald. The dining room, a warm and inviting space where residents can come together and share meals, is adjacent to the entrance door, and a spacious door on the right leads to the women’s dormitory. The dormitory can accommodate up to twelve individuals, with limited personal belongings allowed.

The dormitory overlooks the street through its windows, and a separate door provides direct access to the outside. Towards the end of the room, a lounge area features three toilets, a bathroom, and two washstands. This space is my sleeping and living area, shared with two other women. The room comfortably accommodates three people, with closely interconnected beds.

The proximity of the mattresses to the washstand sometimes makes it challenging for one person to move to the dining room or the yard. Moving outside, the courtyard is a true gem. Two open windows provide views of the courtyard, where donated clothes and shoes are stored. The courtyard has an oversized garage, tables, chairs, double sofas, and a bookshelf. Enclosed cages for kittens are positioned at the upper section of the courtyard, while a toilet, bathroom, and storage area for donated items line the perimeter. Benches are scattered throughout the yard, where residents can rest.

At the back of the courtyard, there is a locked storage room accessible from 8 p.m. to 6:30 a.m., providing residents with a secure place to store their belongings. There’s also a small, specified smoking area with a nearby dust bin and storage room, ensuring that the shelter remains clean and tidy.

Another side of the courtyard leads to the second floor, where a sturdy iron door is used for vehicle access to manage deliveries of donated supplies on Wednesday afternoons and Mondays, and homemade food is prepared for the homeless. On Sundays, several groups arrive to prepare brunch for around 70-80 homeless people who come to the shelter at 8:30 a.m. It’s a true testament to the power of community and the importance of supporting those in need.

Overall, this shelter is a place of hope and inspiration. It reminds us that no matter what challenges we may face in life, there is always a community of caring individuals who are ready to lift us up and support us through difficult times.

We are the masters of our fate. Our destiny is in our hands. – Chariji, my master.

Ms. Linzi, a 64-year-old woman, fulfills the role of Manager at the temporary shelter. She interviews women who have lost their homes and require temporary accommodation. Some of the shelter residents have been living there for a period ranging from 10 to 20 years. Ms. Linzi is known for her serious demeanor, occasional anxiety, and, at times, aggressive behavior, which can leave residents feeling intimidated and stressed in her presence. Her responses to even minor issues can be alarmingly harsh, resulting in punitive measures. In contrast, her husband, Daniel, aged 66, is a tall and broad-shouldered man with a slight weight issue and back problems. He possesses short gray hair and is recognized for his kind and generous nature. Michael is a 24-year-old volunteer on the shelter’s second floor. He is of slim stature, with short brown hair, and usually dresses modestly.

During weekends, he often travels to San Diego to visit his family. Another resident, Sally, aged 48, has lived in the shelter for five years. She has an average height but carries extra weight, particularly in her abdomen, and displays a more masculine personality. Sally is prone to outbursts of shouting and utilizes indecent and vulgar language when agitated. Her behavior may be influenced by drug and alcohol use, and she can be impolite and unethical with loud snoring and burping.

Despite her homelessness, Sally, like other residents, has taken on some responsibilities within the shelter. However, her conduct often veers towards rudeness and impoliteness. Sabrina, a 47-year-old woman from Ghana, has resided in the shelter for six years. She is of average height, has a muscular build, short hair, and dark brown skin. Sabrina oversees the organization of donated supplies such as clothes, wallets, shoes, beds, and other items. Additionally, she prepares breakfast and lunch three days a week. Sabrina maintains complex and often politically charged relationships with Ms. Linzi and Sally; her interactions with others can be impulsive.

Lara, at 73 years old, holds the distinction of being one of the most senior residents in the shelter. Having lived there for two decades, she is recognized for her tall and striking appearance and her shrewd and inquisitive nature. Lara frequently occupies herself with reading books and is responsible for distributing tokens and bath towels to women three days a week, from 3:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.

Nina, a Mexican woman in her sixties, has lived illegally in the United States for twelve years. She has short hair, struggles with obesity, and experiences difficulty walking. Nina takes on the task of caring for rescued kittens and posting their photos on Facebook for potential adoption.

Furthermore, she is responsible for the distribution of tokens and bath towels.

Valerie, a lesbian woman of moderate height with a curved lumbar and short hair, struggles with a psychological condition requiring medication. Her behavior can be unpredictable, and she assumes the responsibility of washing the towels at the shelter. Paige, an African American woman, has lived in the shelter for five years alongside her 37-year-old daughter, Camila, who experiences mental retardation. Camila’s mental age is comparable to that of a five or six-year-old, and although her communication abilities are limited, she frequently attempts to engage with others. Paige, who is tall, obese, sports very short hair, and occasionally changes her hairpieces, is known for her nervous, aggressive, and assertive disposition. She maintains a friendship with Sally. Despite Camila not being favored by many shelter residents, I find her pure and delightful.

It was said that Paige had once borne another girl—a little girl whose life had been cruelly dowsed out at the youthful age of sixteen. Paige, a figure with a rude appearance, had an apprehensive and forceful attitude that permanently affected the individuals who experienced living with her. Nevertheless, in the midst of the shadows, a silver lining arose as her steady kinship with Sally.

Inside this perplexing story, another person arose — Camila, the girl who always played with her cell phone, showing unconventional ways of behaving and development. However, her relational abilities were restricted; she courageously endeavored to connect with everyone around her. Camila paid attention to the music in those minutes—a stunning change happened. Her hands would wind around perplexing examples, her eyes would hit the dance floor with unrestrained bliss, her body moved in an orchestra of spellbinding developments, and her voice conveyed an exceptional and tormenting tune. I, enraptured by her virtue and elegance, couldn’t resist the opportunity to be brought into her reality. In the profundities of this remarkable story, love, and interest entwined as I tracked down comfort in recording Camila’s ghostly presence. With every second that was seen, I was pulled further into the depths of Camila’s charming world — a universe of excellence, secret, and untold stories ready to be uncovered. This is the story of a mother’s misfortune, a girl’s uncommon developments, and their significant effect on the hearts of the individuals who observed them.

As you begin your journey through the pages of this book, you will be transported to a mystical realm, where the fabric of reality itself is woven from the threads of spirituality, music, and personal growth. The words you will read here are not mere ink on paper but an invitation to explore the deepest corners of your soul and discover the boundless potential within you. As you delve deeper into this world of spiritual discovery, you will be guided by a compass that points towards the light of truth and a map that charts the path to self-realization. With each turn of the page, you will encounter new insights, new perspectives, and new revelations that will help you to transcend the limitations of the physical world and to connect with the infinite wisdom of the universe.

This book is not just a collection of words but a portal to a higher plane of existence, where the mysteries of life and the secrets of the universe are waiting to be uncovered. Whether you are a seeker of truth, a lover of music, or a student of personal growth, this book will provide the tools and guidance you need to embark on a journey of self-discovery and enlightenment.

So, open your mind, open your heart, and allow yourself to be transported to a world beyond words, where the power of spirituality, music, and personal growth can help you unlock your full potential. Make it extremely detailed, and add in spirituality.

What gives me the most hope every day is God’s grace; knowing that his grace is going to give me the strength for whatever I face, knowing that nothing is a surprise to God.

- Rick Warren

During my time at the shelter, I have seen many women come and go, but one resident who left a lasting impression on me was Lily. She was a sixty-two-year-old African American lady who resided here for five years before moving out two months ago after receiving government housing approval. Lily, of average height, possessed short, dark hair and a fuller figure. She had a soft spot for blueberries and was often the first in line for breakfast, leaving none for others. Despite her reserved nature, we bonded over our shared love for blueberries. Lily visited the shelter every week to procure personal items such as clothing, shoes, and food – much to Sabrina’s chagrin.

Another resident who caught my attention was Lilian, who stood tall and maintained a fit physique yet was plagued by nervousness and a propensity for gossiping about fellow women. She spent a year at the shelter, aspiring to develop her painting skills. Lilian departed the shelter a month ago after gaining government housing approval. Our communication proved to be challenging.

At approximately fifty years old, Kate resided at the shelter for five years. Kind-hearted and amiable, Kate occasionally displayed nervousness and unpredictability. She assumed responsibility for overseeing a store where people could contribute various items, ranging from medication and cosmetics to luggage and undergarments. Despite a two-week hospitalization due to severe infections, Kate valiantly managed to attend her graduation ceremony last week.

One of my most cherished experiences at the shelter transpired when Maria, a volunteer, graciously invited Kate, Sabrina, and me to her exquisite beach house for lunch. On this occasion, Kate, freshly adorned in her graduation dress, desired a photograph to send to her children, and I eagerly fulfilled her request.

Furthermore, Maria generously allowed us the luxury of indulging in a lengthy shower, an amenity unattainable at the shelter where our water usage was restricted by a token and limited to a mere six minutes and thirty seconds.

Every Wednesday, Maria diligently transports an orange juice machine to the shelter, turning the task of preparing orange juice for the residents into a laborious endeavor. At times, I yearn to be relieved of this responsibility whenever she is present. The shelter serves as a sanctuary for numerous individuals, including homeless women seeking temporary or long-term accommodation, alongside benevolent men and women who extend their support. These individuals emanate love, peace, goodwill, and purity, dedicating extensive hours to preparing delectable meals that they serve with utmost care and aesthetic appeal to the shelter’s inhabitants. Their altruism and benevolence deserve admiration, evoking deep gratitude and appreciation. Regrettably, not all shelter residents exhibit the same kindness and benevolence. Their thoughts, actions, behaviors, intentions, and characteristics elicit feelings of sympathy and despair within me. The prevalence of lies, resentment, jealousy, hatred, vengeance, ingratitude, and various other negative traits weigh heavily on my heart, compelling me to delve into contemplation.

The inhabitants of this shelter, as well as the shelter system itself and the dedicated volunteers, demand consideration in light of these observations. Disputes often leave me feeling sorry and desperate. I am deeply saddened by the lies, resentment, jealousy, hatred, vengeance, and ingratitude that some residents exhibit. These negative qualities compel me to reflect on the shelter’s inhabitants, the shelter system itself, and the volunteers who graciously dedicate their time here, significantly impacting my thinking, life, and future.

I never thought of writing my story before, but the events since I moved to the US and my experiences at this shelter have inspired me to write my autobiography. Despite the hardships and challenges that I have faced at the shelter and throughout my life, I have never lost faith in God. My experiences have inspired me to write my autobiography, which can serve as an instructive lesson for women, men, and young people alike.

I have had difficulties since childhood and youth, but my experiences and problems at this shelter are incomparable. I am in deep fear, facing terrible hardships, homelessness, and fighting an unknown, dark future, yet my faith in God remains steadfast.

Chapter 2: Lessons Learned and Doubts Arise: Navigating Trust and Sincerity

It does not matter how long you are spending on the earth, how much money you have gathered, or how much attention you have received. It is the amount of positive vibration you have radiated in life that matters.

–Amit Ray

Today is August 12, 2017, and the sun, a molten orb of golden fire, hung low in the sky, casting elongated shadows across the parched earth. The air clung to my skin like a thin veil of regret, and I stood there—alone—on the precipice of existence. My footsteps left imprints in the dust, transient marks that whispered of fleeting moments and forgotten dreams.

Life had etched its story upon my weary bones. The journey from hope to despair was treacherous, like navigating a labyrinth without a map. And yet, here I was, a mere speck in the grand theatre of time, grappling with the weight of my own mortality.

The cityscape sprawled before me—a chaotic mosaic of concrete and glass. Skyscrapers reached for the heavens, their windows reflecting fractured glimpses of humanity. People scurried like ants, their lives intersecting briefly before diverging into separate trajectories. Each face held secrets—their own private battles etched into furrowed brows and downturned lips. I had once believed in the inherent goodness of people. In the United States, where I had sought refuge from distant sorrows, I had seen kindness in strangers’ eyes. Their smiles were like sunbeams breaking through storm clouds—a promise that humanity could transcend its flaws. But illusions crumbled like ancient statues. Beneath the veneer of civility lay a fragile reality—one that shifted with the tides of circumstance. People changed; circumstances shifted; fortunes waned. The currency of trust depreciated faster than a falling star.

Before you know it, you lose everything. Sadly, individuals live in their minds and move away from their souls, eventually losing that feeling of sympathy and concern. I live in consistent wretchedness and nervousness, terrified of the conceivable repulsiveness that could happen to me without warning.

The mind is both sanctuary and prison—a place where angels and demons duel for dominion. I grappled with questions that echoed through centuries: Why suffering? Why loss? Why this ceaseless cycle of birth and decay? And then—I found solace in surrender.

The Ruler All-Powerful

I knelt on the carpet—the cool tiles of my room pressing against my forehead. The air smelled of incense and devotion—a heady blend that transcended earthly boundaries.

Over time, I realized that the God —the Ruler All-Powerful—was not confined to minarets or holy books; He existed within every heartbeat, every tear shed in solitude.

I surrendered my burdens—the shattered dreams, the lost fortunes—to Him.

And so—I embraced my trials as sacred lessons—each sorrow etching wisdom into my bones:

I watched sunsets paint the horizon on a foreign land—a canvas ablaze with divine hues—and whispered gratitude for fleeting beauty.

And when despair threatened to consume me—I remembered those unseen threads—the ones connecting hearts across continents and centuries which took me, Venus, to a land that I would never have thought otherwise.

I, firstly, acknowledged how frank my contemplations were while I was in the US. I absurdly confided in everybody; seeing everybody as ‘kind’ made me hopeful. Nonetheless, I have discovered that people, conditions, cash, assets, and offices can suddenly change—often in a matter of seconds.

As Max Lucado said, God never said that the excursion would be simple, yet He said that the appearance would be advantageous. I believe in each of these quotes.

I came to the U.S. on a life partner visa. I met my life partner through his cousin, Sam, an old family companion. Sam lives with his better half in San Jose, California, and is a decent specialist. In 2014, during our phone discussion, Sam raised his cousin, Marco, and proposed we familiarize ourselves since he figured we would make a decent match. He made sense of that his cousin had, as of late, isolated from his better half and had a child who was nineteen years of age. Likewise, he let me know that Marco was 48 years of age, a dental specialist, and had an M.S. sickness that was taken care of. I was exceptionally alone in my nation and needed to begin another life and have a family. I thought, All things considered, we can get to know one another and see what happens.

A couple of days after the fact, Sam called me and said Marco was coming from Arizona to San Jose for a couple of days. He proposed that he believed Marco and I should converse with one another during this opportunity to get to know one another. In the following two weeks, I got a call from Sam and conversed with Marco. Interestingly, our discussion was exceptionally warm and cordial, making Sam say, I figure I ought to set up a wedding suit. Later, Sam informed me that Marco was energized after our discussion. During the call, we talked for about 60 minutes, and Marco let me know he would come to Iran a month after the fact.

We met with two of his companions at the Hilton lodging anteroom when he showed up in Iran. I was amazed that he brought his friends to the memorable gathering. After his friends left the hotel after 60 minutes, we had the option to examine various subjects, and the two of us got a nice sentiment. We chose to see each other before long, hang out, and get to know one another better. During the more than two years we were locked in, Marco came to Iran multiple times and continued for around two months each time.

When he was in the U.S., we talked for a few hours constantly, and we turned out to be keener and keener on one another following our marriage; because of specific occasions that happened, I started to be uncertain about his honesty, especially in the wake of ending up in a ladies’ sanctuary, distressed with difficulties, dread, stress, and nervousness. Whenever I think about his way of behaving toward me, I can’t resist the urge to puzzle over whether he had any sensations of adoration, still, small voice, or honesty. Assuming he did, he would.

Earlier, I had an entirely pleasant way of life, yet currently, I think of myself as needy. As of now, I reside in a ladies’ sanctuary where roughly 95% of the tenants have extreme mental issues, substance misuse issues, or a criminal record, including murder and other dangerous offenses. During my time here, I have seen numerous ladies come and go. Because of their substance misuse or social issues, the vast majority of them were, in the end, removed from the haven. Linzi asked one lady who had resided here briefly to leave the sanctuary.

The sanctuary stood like a forgotten relic—an