You Do Not Have to Compress Your Soul

The sun is up now, and with it comes the quiet urge to edit the story of last night. You find yourself shrinking the pain, smoothing the edges, making your wound small enough to fit into their schedule without causing a scene.

You tell yourself it wasn't that bad, so they won't have to stop walking. But the dawn does not ask you to be convenient.

It rises regardless of whether your grief fits the timeline of the day. The light that just broke the horizon is not in a hurry, and it does not need you to minimize your darkness to make room for it.

You do not have to compress your soul to be loved this morning. The Father's light was already inside you before you started editing, and it remains there now, too vast to be hidden by your silence.