You Are Not Acting, You Are Arriving

The sun is up, and already you are tired from holding up the mask of the person you are trying to become. You look at this new self—the one who prays more, who smiles easier, who says they are healed—and you are convinced it is just another performance destined to collapse by noon.

You are waiting for the curtain to fall. But listen to the silence between the birds outside your window.

What you built yesterday was not a stage; it was a seed. The kingdom is like a mustard seed, the smallest thing you can imagine, yet it grows into a shelter without you forcing the branches to spread.

You do not have to make the light shine; you only have to stop hiding the match you were given. The dawn does not ask you to be perfect; it only asks you to be present.

You are not acting; you are arriving.