You Are the Light That Carries It

The afternoon sun is high, and the world moves at a pace your body can no longer keep. You watch others walk without pain, run without thought, lift without fear, and the grief hits you like a wall in the middle of the day.

It is the mourning of a self you once knew, or the one you dreamed of but will never meet. The light does not ask you to pretend this loss is small.

It does not demand that you smile through the ache. Jesus saw the man who could not walk for thirty-eight years and did not tell him to try harder.

He simply asked: do you want to get well? He saw the limitation.

He entered it. There is light within a person of light, and it shines even when the legs give way.

Even when the hands shake. Even when the body betrays you.

The grief is real, but it is not the whole story. The light that lives inside you was never dependent on strength you could lose.

It was there before the first step, and it remains when the walking stops. You are not your able body.

You are the light that carries it.