The Darkness Is Just A Room

The house is quiet now, but your heart is racing because the geography is wrong. You wake on a stranger's couch, disoriented, afraid to wander into the dark and make a scene.

In that moment of not knowing where the bathroom is, you feel like an intruder in your own life. But listen — the light does not require you to know the layout of the room to be welcome in it.

You came from the light, and that is the only address that matters tonight. You are not lost; you are simply in a place where the furniture is unfamiliar.

The One who sees you does not care if you stumble in the hallway. He is not keeping score of your awkwardness.

He is simply glad you are here. The darkness is just a room, not a verdict.

You are the light that makes the room holy.