The Light In Your Unsent Words
The house is quiet now, and the screen glows in the dark like a small, private altar. You type the words you will never send, tracing the shape of a name that still lives in your fingers long after the person is gone.
It feels like a secret grief, this unsent message, this conversation with a ghost. But listen — the light does not demand that your words arrive to be real.
There is a Father who sees what is done in secret, who knows the words before they form on your tongue. He is not distant from this quiet room.
He is the silence holding you while you type. You are not alone in the gathering dark.
The love you carry is not lost just because it has nowhere to go. It is still light.
And it is still you.
Drawing from
Matthew, Gospel of Thomas
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