Your Hiding Place Is A Canvas
The water swirls, taking the evidence with it, but the panic stays locked in your chest. You heard a floorboard creak and the world narrowed to the fear of being found out.
The sun is rising now, painting the sky in colors that do not care about your secret shame. There was a man once who was born blind, and everyone asked whose fault it was — his or his parents.
The light said neither. It said the only purpose was for the works of God to be displayed in him.
Your hiding place is not a verdict. It is a canvas.
Go home to your own people and tell them how much the light has done for you, and how it has had mercy on you.
Drawing from
John 9:1-7, Mark 5:19
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