The Light Does Not Recoil From You

The afternoon light is flat and unforgiving, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the silence you just created. You stare at the sent bubble, that small gray cloud hanging in the air, and your mind begins to write the story of their disgust before they have even read a word.

You imagine them recoiling, judging the weight of what you handed over, wishing you had stayed quiet. But listen — the light does not recoil from what is brought into it.

It does not shy away from the messy, honest truth you just released. There is a verse that says if our hearts condemn us, God is greater than our hearts.

Your heart is painting a picture of rejection, but the light sees the courage it took to send it. The light sees the love underneath the fear.

You do not have to sit here and monitor their reaction to know you are held. The message is sent.

The vulnerability is out. And the light is already there, waiting on the other side of the screen, not to judge, but to meet you.