The Light Does Not Scold Your Tremor
The day is long, and the noise of it wears on the nerves until a sudden shout feels like a door slamming shut in your face. You flinch before you can stop yourself, your body remembering a storm that has already passed.
That reflex is not a failure of your faith; it is the echo of a war you survived. The light does not scold you for the tremor in your hands.
It stands quietly in the middle of your afternoon, waiting for the shaking to settle. There is a peace that does not arrive all at once, but seeps into the bones like water into dry earth.
You are safe now, even when your muscles forget.
Drawing from
John, Matthew
Verses
John 14:27, Matthew 11:28-29
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