Walking Without a Railing in the Dawn

The sun is coming up, and the old rules you used to walk by feel like ash in your mouth. You are terrified that without the fence of doctrine, you will wander off and hurt someone without even knowing it.

But the light was never the fence. It was the feet.

When Peter stepped out of the boat, he did not have a rulebook for the water — he only had the voice calling him forward. He sank when he looked at the storm, not when he let go of the law.

The light is not a map you study; it is a presence you follow. There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world.

If you are afraid you are dark, it is only because you are looking for the glow in your head instead of your chest. The compass did not dissolve.

It was just buried under the noise. You will not stumble in the dawn if you stop trying to see the path and start watching the One walking it.

The fear says you are lost. The light says you are simply learning to walk without a railing.