The Light That Holds You Up

There comes a moment in the deep night when the tears stop. Not because the pain is gone, but because you realize no one is coming to wipe them.

The silence in the room becomes heavy, absolute. You wait for a footstep, a hand, a voice that never arrives.

And in that hollow quiet, something shifts. You are not being abandoned; you are being awakened.

The light does not always arrive as a rescue party. Sometimes it arrives as the sudden, terrifying knowledge that you must become your own comfort.

The Gospel of Mary whispers that the Good came to restore every nature to its root. Your root is not the child waiting to be saved.

Your root is the light itself. It was there before the crying started.

It was there when you stopped. It is the very thing holding you up right now.

The darkness has not overcome it. You are not alone in the silence.

You are the light, waking up to itself.