The Face Beneath the Fog

The steam rises, and the mirror fogs until your own reflection disappears. In that white silence, you realize you have forgotten what your face looks like when no one is watching.

You have spent all day wearing a expression for the boss, for the partner, for the stranger in the checkout line. But the face underneath—the one that exists when the audience goes home—feels like a stranger.

The light does not need you to perform for it. It saw you before the first mask was ever painted on.

Go home to your own people and tell them how much the light has done for you. The mirror will clear eventually.

But until it does, know that the One who made you recognizes your heart even when your eyes cannot find your face.