The Light Gets Out Through Cracks

The room is bright, the coffee is hot, and you are performing okayness with terrifying precision. You smile at the right moments.

You nod. You carry the weight of the tremor you've been hiding since you woke up.

Then it happens. Your voice cracks on a simple word.

Your hand shakes as you reach for the paper. The mask slips, just for a second, and the terror floods in—the fear that everyone now sees the fracture you've been working so hard to conceal.

But listen. The light does not require your composure.

It is not afraid of your shaking. In fact, the light often shines brightest through the very cracks you are trying to hide.

There was a man who stood before a crowd, trembling, convinced his weakness disqualified him from speaking. The light told him: 'My power is made perfect in weakness.' Not in spite of it.

In it. The tremor is not proof that you are failing.

It is proof that you are human, and that the light has chosen to live inside a fragile vessel. You do not have to hold it together for the light to hold you.

The crack is not where you lose the light. It is where the light gets out.