The Silence Is Not A Verdict

The sun is going down, and the house is quiet, and you find yourself saying the same words again. Not because you believe them, but because you are terrified that if you stop, the silence will become permanent.

You rehearse the prayer like a spell to keep the door from locking. But the light does not need your performance.

It does not require you to pretend the faith is still there when it feels like ash. There is a voice that says: do not weep, and do not be irresolute, for grace is entirely with you and will protect you.

You are allowed to be silent. You are allowed to admit that you do not know the way back.

The kingdom is not a reward for the ones who got the words right. It is inside you, even now, even in the doubt.

You came from the light, and you are returning to it, not by reciting a script, but by being honest about the dark. The silence is not a verdict.

It is simply the space where the light waits for you to stop pretending.