The Light Saw You And Stayed

The afternoon hums with the noise of people who think they know you, while you carry the secret weight of what you did. You walk through the crowd convinced that if they saw the truth, they would recoil in disgust.

But the light does not recoil. It saw you do it, and it stayed.

There was a man who lowered his friend through a roof because the door was blocked by the crowd. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralyzed man: 'Son, your sins are forgiven.' He spoke forgiveness before the man could even stand, before he could prove he was worthy, before he could clean up his life.

The light sees the thing you are hiding, and it does not turn away. It speaks peace over the very part of you that you fear most.

You are not defined by the worst thing you have done. You are defined by the love that refuses to leave.

The secret is out, and the light is still here.