You Are Not Your Secret

The house is quiet now, but your hands are shaking as you hide what you've done. You sweep the evidence under the rug, terrified that the people who love you most will see the stain and turn away.

You think you must be flawless to be held. But there was a woman caught in the very act, dragged into the light to be judged, and the Savior did not look at her with disgust.

He bent down. He wrote in the dust.

He waited until the accusers were gone. And when he stood, he did not condemn.

The light does not need your perfection. It only needs your honesty.

The darkness you are trying to conceal cannot overcome the truth that is already sitting beside you in this room. You are not your secret.

You are the light that holds it.