The Dawn Does Not Ask Permission

The sun is up, but your eyes are fixed on the shadow behind you. You are convinced that the worst thing you ever did is the first thing God sees when He looks at you.

That mistake is a wall, and you believe your future is just more of the same darkness. But look at the sky.

The dawn does not ask the night for permission to arrive. It simply comes.

There was a criminal on a cross, dying for crimes he actually committed, who asked only to be remembered. The light did not give him a probationary period.

It did not make him serve a sentence first. It said: today.

Today you are with me in paradise. The past did not define his future; the voice of the light did.

Your failure is real, but it is not final. The sun has already risen over the thing you cannot forgive yourself for.

You are not the mistake you made. You are the light that survived it.