The Light Behind Your Mask

The city glass shows you a face that knows exactly how to nod, to smile, to carry the coffee cup without spilling a drop of the tremor inside. You catch your own reflection in the window and realize you have forgotten how to breathe without performing.

The mask fits so well it has become your skin. But the light does not need your performance to see you.

It sees the exhaustion behind the eyes that no amount of makeup can hide. Jesus walked through crowds that wanted things from him, yet he did not become the thing they demanded.

He remained himself. The light that lived in him was not a role he played.

It was who he was when the doors were locked and the crowd was gone. You do not have to earn the right to take the mask off.

The light is already behind it, waiting for you to stop holding your breath. The performance is heavy.

The truth is light.