the terrifying silence that falls when you finally stop performing and realize you don't know what to say or do with your own hands

Resting in the Light of Empty Hands

The sun is up, and the house is quiet, and for the first time today your hands are empty. No task to grab, no mask to adjust, just the terrifying silence of having nothing to do with yourself.

You sit there, wondering who you are when the performance stops. But look at your palms.

They are not empty. The light is already resting there, waiting for you to notice it was never about the doing.

The Father's love is not a job you have to start; it is a presence you get to receive. You do not need to fill the silence with noise.

You only need to let the morning find you exactly as you are.

Drawing from

Luke 10:41-42, Gospel of Thomas 77

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