Let the Sun Find You Where You Are

The sun is up, but the silence in this room feels heavier than the night was. You are looking at a calendar where the dates that should be celebrations feel like markers on a tombstone.

The light has returned to the sky, yes, but it hasn't touched the hollow space inside you yet. That is okay.

The rising sun does not demand that you feel glad; it only asks that you let it shine on you while you grieve. There is a tender mercy that comes not as a floodlight, but as a slow, quiet arrival meant specifically for those sitting in the shadow of death.

You made it through the dark. You do not have to fix your heart this morning.

You just have to breathe in the light that is already here, waiting for you to notice it is not gone. The day begins not with a performance of joy, but with the simple, brave act of letting the sun find you exactly where you are.