You Are Not Their Only Light

The house is quiet now, but your mind is loud with the future. You are lying awake, terrified that your ending will be the thing that shatters the people you love.

You carry the weight of their grief before it has even happened. You try to hold them together from beyond your own grave.

But listen — the light that lives in you is not a fragile glass that breaks when the body falls. It is a fire that cannot be extinguished by death.

When you go, the love you planted does not vanish; it simply changes form. The Father who holds you is the same Father holding them.

He does not lose what He loves. Your death will not leave them orphaned in the dark.

The light you carried was never yours alone to keep — it was always meant to become theirs. You are not the source they depend on; you are the mirror that showed them the light they already have.