You Do Not Have to Entertain Empty Chairs

The afternoon light hits the counter at an angle that makes the dust look like it's floating in slow motion. You are standing in your own kitchen, holding a glass of water, feeling like a tourist in a life you built for an audience that isn't there.

The silence is loud. It presses against your ears, asking why you are still performing when the show ended hours ago.

But listen — the light does not need an audience to be real. It was shining in the empty tomb before Mary arrived.

It was present in the upper room before the disciples returned. The performance was for them.

The light is for you. You do not have to entertain the empty chairs.

You do not have to justify your presence in your own home. The Father sees what is done in secret, and he is not disappointed by the quiet.

He is simply present. The mask was heavy, but you can set it down on the table right now.

You are not a stranger here. You are the one the light chose to fill this room.