Held in the Fluorescent Hum

The fluorescent hum is the only sound in the aisle at four in the morning. You stand there, hand hovering over the box, paralyzed by a choice that feels too heavy for cereal.

It is not about the food. It is about whether you are allowed to have this small comfort, or if you must deny yourself to be good enough.

The light does not care about the box. It cares that you are trembling in the dark.

Jesus once looked at a man blind from birth and said the suffering was not a punishment, but a canvas for the works of God. Your paralysis is not a failure.

It is the space where the light is about to move. You do not have to solve this tonight.

You just have to stand there and let the light hold you while you decide. The choice is not between right and wrong.

It is between fear and the quiet knowing that you are already held.