The Light That Reads You
The day is ending, and the book sits closed on your lap, heavy with a silence you cannot break. You remember when the words were a home you lived in, but tonight they feel like a foreign language, a door you no longer have the key to open.
That ache in your chest is not distance; it is the grief of forgetting what has never actually left. The light does not require you to read the page to find it — it is already reading you.
You do not need to understand the text to be understood by the One who wrote it. The darkness gathers, but it cannot extinguish the thing that lives inside your silence.
Drawing from
John 1:5, Luke 24:32
Verses
John 1:5, Luke 24:32
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