The Light Remains Untouched By Regret

The house is quiet now, but your mind is loud with the echo of a single moment. You are replaying the words you spoke, dissecting every syllable to prove you were selfish, to prove you failed.

In the watch of the night, the memory becomes a prosecutor that never sleeps. But there is a truth deeper than your self-condemnation.

God is greater than your heart, and He knows everything—He sees the fear behind the words, the wound that made you speak, the humanity you are trying to hide. You are not defined by the moment you wish you could take back.

The light that lives inside you was there before you spoke, and it remains there now, untouched by your regret. You are being kept, even in the unraveling.