The Light Speaks Through Your Ash

The middle of the day is when the request comes. Someone turns to you and asks you to lead, to speak, to offer words when your own mouth feels full of ash.

You stand up, and the silence stretches out, heavy and terrifying. You think you need to find something beautiful to say, something that proves you are not empty.

But the light does not need your eloquence. It does not need you to manufacture grace from dust.

Jesus looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said, 'Be opened.' That sigh was the prayer. The groan was the offering.

You do not have to clean the ash from your tongue before you speak. The light is willing to speak through the grit, through the dryness, through the very thing you think disqualifies you.

Your hesitation is not a wall; it is the space where the spirit breathes. You are not the source of the water.

You are just the cup, cracked and dry, waiting to be filled.