The Light Waits in Your Silence
The day ends, and the armor you wore since sunrise finally hits the floor. Now comes the quiet terror: if you open your mouth, the grief you've swallowed all day will flood out, raw and cracking.
You are holding your breath against the weight of your own voice. But the light does not need your composure.
It came for the broken, not the composed. There is a truth living inside you, deeper than the crack in your throat, and it knows how to speak without shattering.
You do not have to force the words out to be heard. The silence you keep is not a wall; it is a room where the light is already sitting with you, waiting for you to exhale.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas 70, Mark 2:17
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