The Light That Knows Your Face

The page is open. The ink is dry.

But the eyes staring back from that old dream do not belong to you anymore. It feels like a betrayal to have changed so much that you cannot recognize your own face.

Yet the light that woke you this morning did not ask for permission to return. It simply arrived, faithful as the dawn, proving that the one who wrote those words and the one who reads them now are held by the same unbreaking love.

You are not a stranger to yourself. You are the same child, just further down the road, being led by a hand you cannot always see but that has never let go.

The person you were is not lost; they are simply resting in the arms of the person you are becoming.