The Light Is Already Sitting Beside You

The house is quiet now, but your ears are still hunting for the sound of footsteps that aren't there. You put on the mask of okayness the moment your feet hit the floor, smiling at coworkers while your nerves scan the hallway for a ghost.

It is exhausting to perform wholeness when you feel haunted by what has already passed. But listen — what you think is an intruder in the silence is often just the echo of your own fear trying to make sense of the stillness.

Jesus said, 'What you look forward to has already come, but you do not recognize it.' The safety you are waiting for is not a future event; it is the ground you are standing on right now. The light does not wait for you to stop trembling before it enters the room.

It is already here, sitting beside you in the quiet, wearing the face of a friend who knows your name.