The Silence Is Full, Not Empty
The afternoon stretches out, a long, quiet middle where the old reflex still fires. Your hand reaches for the phone, muscles remembering a crisis that no longer exists, a number that no longer connects.
You pause before the dial tone, caught between the habit of panic and the silence of a peace you haven't learned to trust yet. The light is not in the emergency; it is in the ordinary, unbroken hour right in front of you.
You were sent into this world like a drop from the light, not to manage disasters, but to illuminate the simple fact that you are still here. The crisis has passed, but the purpose remains.
The phone stays dark, and you realize the silence isn't empty—it is full.
Drawing from
Sophia of Jesus Christ, Luke
Verses
Sophia of Jesus Christ 93:5-8, Luke 17:21
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