Let the Light Sit With Your Trembling

It is deep in the watch, and the house is quiet enough to hear the tremor in your own hands. You are rehearsing a gentle response, crafting words of peace while your body screams to snap.

The gap between the mask you are building and the rage you are feeling feels like a canyon. But listen — the light that lives inside you is not threatened by your trembling.

It does not demand you be calm before it stays. Jesus stood in the storm and spoke peace to the wind, not because the wind was gone, but because the light was louder.

You do not have to fix the shaking tonight. You just have to let the light sit with you in the middle of it.

The tremor is real, but the light is deeper.