You Are A Story Still Being Written

The silence in this house feels like proof that you are a burden. That if you were gone, the air would be lighter for everyone you love.

That your absence would be a relief. But the light does not measure your worth by the noise you make or the space you take up.

It measures you by the love that holds you, even when you cannot feel it. There was a man who lived among the tombs, screaming and cutting himself, convinced he was too dangerous to be near anyone.

The people wanted him gone. But the light did not see a nuisance to be removed.

It saw a son to be restored. It crossed the water specifically for him.

And when the man was healed, the light told him: 'Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you.' Your presence is not a problem to be solved. It is a story the light is still writing.

The darkness tells you that you are too much. The light says you are exactly enough to be loved here, right now, in this unbearable quiet.