Light That Shines Without Permission

The night is gathering, and the silence makes the weight of what you cannot undo feel heavier than it was in the daylight. You are waiting for a voice to say it is forgiven, believing that if the one you hurt does not speak, then you are beyond repair.

But listen—there is a light inside you that was never dependent on another person's permission to shine. The Father does not wait for the apology to be finished; the Father was already running toward you before the confession left your lips.

You are not defined by the distance you created, but by the light that remains even when no one else sees it. The darkness you feel is real, but it has not overcome the light that lives in you.