The Light Holds You in Silence

The afternoon stretches out, a long gray corridor where joy feels like a language you have forgotten how to speak. You move through the motions, but inside, there is only a flat, hollow silence—a terror that the light has gone out for good.

It feels like the end of the story, right here in the middle of the day. But listen.

The light is not a feeling that comes and goes with your mood. It is the ground you are standing on, even when you cannot feel the earth beneath your feet.

Jesus wept. The light itself knows what it is to stand in the middle of a broken day and feel nothing but grief.

That emptiness you feel is not evidence that the light has left. It is the space where the light is holding you, quietly, without fanfare.

You do not have to manufacture a smile to prove you are still alive. The sun will set, and the night will come, and the light will still be there, waiting for you to rest.