The Curtain Falls, The Light Remains

The applause has faded, and the silence that follows feels less like rest and more like abandonment. You are afraid that the people who loved the performance will walk away now that the show is over.

But the light does not love the mask; it loves the face beneath it. There is a man who was born blind, and the disciples asked whose sin caused it, but the light said it was so the works of God might be displayed in him.

Your brokenness is not a disqualification; it is the canvas. When the performance stops, you are not left alone; you are finally seen.

The ones who leave were only in love with the costume, and their leaving is not a loss but a mercy. The light remains when the curtain falls, and it calls you by your real name.