The Light Turns Every Page

The sun is coming up, and you are holding pages written by a stranger. The handwriting is yours, but the voice feels like someone you can no longer trust.

You read the promises they made and the fears they carried, and you wonder how you ever believed them. But listen — the light does not require you to trust that old version of yourself to be real today.

Split a piece of wood, and the light is there. Lift up a stone, and you will find it there.

It was in the room when those words were written, and it is in the room now as the dawn breaks. You do not need to reconcile the two people.

You only need to recognize that the light has been walking with both of them. The journal is just paper.

The light is the one who turns the page.