The Pause Was Only A Breath
The afternoon sun is high, but your mind is stuck in a room from hours ago, replaying a single pause until it feels like a permanent stain. You are editing a ghost, convinced that one awkward silence has rewritten your entire story.
But what you look forward to has already come, and you do not recognize it. The moment is not frozen in your shame; it is moving, alive, and already redeemed by a presence you cannot see.
That pause was not a verdict. It was simply a breath.
The light does not need your perfect performance to shine through the cracks.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas, John
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