Resting While Holding The Lie

The afternoon light is unforgiving. It exposes the dust on the shelf and the lie you told to keep your image intact.

You remember the face of the person who believed you — the way their eyes softened with trust while you were constructing a wall of falsehood. That moment hangs in the middle of the day, heavy and unresolved.

You feel like an impostor in your own skin, performing a version of yourself that does not exist. But the light does not require a perfect performance to dwell within you.

It is already there, even in the shame of the pretense. Thomas said the kingdom is inside you and outside you — it is not withheld because you stumbled.

The light is not afraid of your dishonesty. It waits for you to stop hiding from it.

You do not have to fix the memory before you can rest. The truth is already holding you, even while you hold the lie.