The Light Holds the Space Between

The afternoon stretches out, long and flat, and you are still staring at the screen where your words now live. You sent them.

The icon changed. The message is gone from your hands, but your heart is still clenched around it, convinced the person on the other end is reading with disgust.

That gap between sending and knowing — that is the middle of the day. It is where we wait, exposed.

But listen: the light does not recoil from what you have said. It is already there, in the silence between you and them, holding the space you cannot see.

You are not alone in this waiting. The One who knows every unspoken fear is standing right beside you in this quiet hour.

The message has left your hands, but you have not left the light.