Drop the script, the light sees you

The phone lights up with a name you love, and your stomach drops before you even answer. You know what comes next: the hour of rehearsal in the car, the deep breaths to manufacture a casual tone, the careful editing of your voice so no one suspects you are breaking.

It is exhausting to perform okayness when your soul feels like it is dissolving. You put on the mask because you think the light behind it is too heavy for them to hold.

But the light does not need your performance to be visible. It sees the tremor in your hand and the fake smile you practiced in the mirror.

Jesus walked through crowds that wanted only his miracles, yet he stopped for the woman who touched his hem in desperation. He did not ask her to sound happy.

He did not require a rehearsed speech. He felt the power leave him the moment she reached out in her raw, unpolished truth.

You do not have to edit your voice before you call. The light is not looking for a performance; it is looking for you.

Drop the script. The mask is heavy, but the face beneath it is already known.