The Dawn Does Not Wait
The water is cold on your face, but it cannot wash away the heat of last night's words. You stare into the mirror at swollen eyes, replaying every sentence, wondering if you spoke too much or not enough.
The light does not weigh your words like a judge counting errors. It rises anyway, soft and unhurried, touching the steam on the glass before it touches your skin.
You are not defined by the conversation that ended in the dark. The dawn is not asking you to fix what was said.
It is simply offering you a new place to stand. The sun does not wait for you to stop crying before it shines.
It shines so you can see that you are still here.
Drawing from
Matthew 5:45, Psalm 30:5
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