The Dark Is Not a Courtroom

The sun has gone down, and the performance is finally over. You are safe now to stop pretending you had it all together.

The fear whispers that if you rest, the mask will slip and everyone will see the fraud beneath. But listen — the light does not need your competence.

It never did. There was a man named Peter who swore he was loyal, then denied he even knew the Teacher.

He thought his failure disqualified him forever. Yet when the morning came, the light did not ask for a resume.

It asked only if he loved. The light knew the worst of him before it ever called him friend.

You do not have to hold the world up tonight. The gathering dark is not a courtroom; it is a bedroom.

The light sees the exhaustion behind your eyes and calls it holy. Close them.

The pretending ends where the being begins.