The Cycle Ends Where Light Begins

The afternoon sun is high, and the shadows are short, but inside you, a long shadow stretches back to your own childhood. You watch your children play, and suddenly you hear your father's voice coming out of your mouth.

You feel the old anger rising, the same impatience, the same coldness that once made you feel small. The terror is not that you will fail them.

The terror is that you will become the very thing you swore you wouldn't. You brace yourself for the impact, waiting for the moment you break them like you were broken.

But the light does not work in cycles. It works in interruptions.

There is a presence inside you that was not there when you were small. A gentle hum beneath the noise of your history.

It is the same light that lived in Jesus, now living in you, and it is stronger than your memory. It does not erase the past, but it breaks the chain in the present.

You are not the sum of what was done to you. You are the vessel of what is being done in you right now.

The cycle ends where the light begins.