You Are Already Where Light Happens

The sun has gone down, and the walls of the house feel thinner now that the noise of the day has stopped. You have built a life here, brick by brick, in a place that sometimes looks at you and sees a stranger instead of a neighbor.

The doubt creeps in when the streetlights flicker on: do I belong? The light does not ask for your papers or your history before it shines on you.

It simply arrives, like the dawn that rises on the evil and the good without checking their status. There was a man born blind, and everyone assumed his condition was a punishment for someone's sin.

But the light said no — this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him. Your struggle is not a verdict against you.

It is the canvas where the light is about to do something no one has ever seen. You are not waiting for permission to exist.

You are already the place where the light is happening.