The Light Finds You Shaking

The coffee cup feels heavy in your hand, and you are working so hard to keep the tremor hidden beneath the table. You say 'amen' with a steady voice while your stomach knots, terrified that someone will notice the shaking and see the fracture underneath.

But the light does not need your performance to find you. It sees the hands that shake and the heart that fears exposure, and it does not look away.

There was a man born blind, and the people around him argued about whose fault it was, desperate to assign blame for the brokenness. But the light stopped the debate with a single truth: this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.

Your trembling is not a failure to be hidden. It is the very place where the light is about to move.

You do not have to hold yourself together for the morning to be holy. The mask can slip.

The hands can shake. And in that honest unraveling, the work begins.