The Light Walks On The Flood

The house is quiet now. The noise you used to outrun your grief has finally stopped.

And in this silence, the things you buried feel like they are rising up to drown you. You are afraid that if you sit still, the water will break over your head and you will not survive it.

But listen — the light does not run from the flood. It walks on it.

It was present in the deep before you were born, and it is present in this room right now. You do not have to hold the grief alone.

The One who wept at the tomb is sitting beside you in the dark, and He is not afraid of your tears. He is not waiting for you to be strong.

He is waiting to hold what you can no longer carry. The panic says you will sink.

The truth says you are already held.