The Spring Rising Inside You

The afternoon hums with a noise that isn't yours. You have spent so many hours shaping your words to fit the ears of others that you no longer recognize the sound of your own voice when the room goes quiet.

It feels like a stranger is speaking, or perhaps no one is speaking at all. But there is a whisper underneath the performance, a sound that was there before you learned to please anyone.

Jesus sat by a well and told a woman that the water he gives becomes a spring welling up inside her. Not a cistern you fill for others to drink from.

A spring. Something that rises from the deep, unasked, unpolished.

You do not need to manufacture this voice. You only need to stop drowning it out.

The light is already speaking in you — clear, ancient, and entirely your own. Silence the crowd long enough to hear it rise.