the instinctive flinch when a door slams or a phone buzzes, expecting news that the world has ended again

The Light That Arrives Before You

The door slams, and your whole body braces for the crash. That flinch is not weakness—it is the memory of too many mornings where the news was bad before the coffee was poured.

But look at the window. The light is already there, spilling across the floor, untouched by whatever broke in the night.

It did not wait for you to be ready. It simply arrived.

You are not defined by the noise that startles you, but by the silence that holds you. The rising sun does not ask permission to shine; it just rises.

And in that rising, it says: you are still here. The light has not ended.

It has only just begun.

Drawing from

Luke, 1 John

Verses

Luke 1:78-79, 1 John 2:10

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