Your Boundary Is The Wick

The afternoon sun is high, and the heat makes everything feel exposed—especially the new line you just drew in the sand. You said no, and now the panic sets in: have I become the cold person I always feared being?

The one who shuts the door? The one who doesn't care?

But listen closely. That heat you feel is not the chill of indifference.

It is the friction of a boundary holding firm against the weight of the world. Jesus once told a woman, freed from a lifetime of shame, to go home and declare how much God has done for her.

He did not tell her to apologize for her freedom. He did not tell her to soften her story so others would feel comfortable.

He sent her out to speak the truth of her own life. There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world.

If that light does not shine, it is dark. Your boundary is not a wall to keep love out.

It is the wick that allows the light to burn without consuming you. You are not becoming cold.

You are finally becoming clear.