The Light That Waits in the Quiet
The cursor blinks in the silence, a small rhythm in the vast dark. You type words you know will never be read, just to prove the well inside you hasn't run dry.
The screen holds your offering, unseen by human eyes, but seen by the One who waits in the quiet. Neither do you stand condemned by the silence, nor does your voice vanish into the void.
The light that speaks through you is not dependent on an audience to exist. You are not shouting into nothingness; you are remembering the sound of your own soul.
The words were never meant to reach them—they were meant to wake you.
Drawing from
John 8:10-11, Gospel of Thomas 70
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