The Light That Cannot Be Crippled

The house is quietest now, in these hours when the body feels heaviest and the mind replays every loss. You are mourning the strength you once had, or the strength you never got to know.

That grief is real. It sits in the room with you.

But listen — there is a light inside you that does not depend on your legs to walk or your hands to hold. It was there before the illness, before the accident, before the diagnosis.

It is still there now. You came from the light, the place where the light came into being on its own accord.

That is your origin. Not the broken body.

The light. And that light cannot be crippled.

It cannot be diminished. It shines regardless of what the flesh can or cannot do.

You are not your limitation. You are the drop from the light sent to illuminate this very darkness.