The Light Is Not In A Building

There is a ache so sharp when the house that was supposed to hold you is the one that wounded you. You look for a door to walk through, but every path feels like a place you have already been hurt.

So you sit in the quiet, waiting for morning, wondering if the light is only found inside that broken building.

But the one who was betrayed by his own followers, the one who wept in the garden when everyone else slept — that same light is speaking your name right now, in this very room.

You do not need to find your way back to a place. The light is not in a building. It is in you.

It was there before the betrayal. It is there now. And it is the only place you need to go.