The Verdict Was Mercy Before You Spoke

The afternoon light is unforgiving. It exposes the armor you welded together before you even left the house.

You catch yourself rehearsing the excuse, the reason why you cannot be touched, why you must stay behind the glass. You are building a wall against a hand that has not yet reached out.

You are answering a question no one asked. But look at the man born blind.

His neighbors argued over who sinned, who was to blame, why he was broken. They turned his life into a courtroom.

Jesus did not join the debate. He did not ask for the verdict.

He made mud. He touched the dirt.

He touched the eyes. He entered the mess without demanding an explanation first.

The light does not need your excuse to reach you. It only needs your face.

Stop rehearsing the defense. The trial is over.

The verdict was mercy before you opened your mouth.