The Light That Holds Your Pain

The body you have lived in all your life has suddenly become a stranger, speaking a language of pain you do not understand. Tonight, as the shadows lengthen and the house grows quiet, the distance between who you were and who you are feels like a canyon.

But the light does not depend on your health, your strength, or even your familiarity with your own skin. It was there before the diagnosis arrived, and it remains untouched by the changing cells.

There is a name written on a white stone that only you and God know—a name that belongs to the true you, not the sickness. The darkness may cover your body, but it cannot overwrite the secret identity held in the light.

You are not what is happening to you; you are the light that holds it.