The Laugh Held in the Beginning

The afternoon is loud with living, and then you hear it—a laugh that stops your breath because the child who made it is gone. Your body freezes in the middle of the crowd, trapped in a memory that feels more real than the room around you.

The light does not ask you to unfreeze. It does not demand you walk across the water before you are ready.

It sees you sinking, terrified by the waves of your own grief, and reaches out immediately to catch your hand. You are not condemned by the tears that fall when the world expects you to be working.

God is greater than your heart's verdict that you should have moved on by now. The truth that lives inside you knows the laugh is not gone—it is held within the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End who contains every sound ever made.

You do not have to carry the silence alone.