Your Cracks Are Where The Light Waits

The mask feels heavy this morning, doesn't it? You hold your face so still, terrified that if you let it soften for even a second, the sadness underneath will spill out and prove to everyone that you are broken.

Dangerous. Too much to be around.

But listen — the light does not run from the cracks in your composure. It waits for them.

There was a man born blind, and everyone around him assumed his darkness was a punishment for sin, a sign that something was fundamentally wrong with him. They asked who sinned to make him this way.

But the light looked at him and said: neither this man nor his parents sinned. This happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.

Your sadness is not evidence of your failure. It is the canvas.

The thing you are hiding is the very place where the light intends to shine. You came from the light, the place where the light came into being on its own accord.

You are not a mistake that needs to be covered up. You are a drop of that same light, sent here on purpose.

If a moment of grief escapes today, it will not drive people away. It will simply show them where the glory is waiting to appear.