The Light Sitting Beside You

The walls are closing in. The silence is so loud it feels like it has a weight, pressing against your chest, forcing you to look at the one person you've been running from all day: yourself.

In the gathering dark, the noise of the world falls away, and what is left is just you and the quiet. It feels like isolation.

It feels like a cell. But listen — there is a knock at the door of your heart, not from the outside, but from within.

The light is not waiting for you to be worthy before it enters. It stands there, patient, asking only to come in and eat with you.

You are not alone in this room. The silence is not empty; it is full of a presence that knows your name and refuses to leave.

The darkness you feel is not the absence of God; it is the space where you finally stop moving long enough to realize the light has been sitting beside you all along.