There’s a fracture in everything, a fault line running through the heart of existence, and it’s there, in that jagged space, where the light sneaks in.
On days when I can’t feel God, I remind myself the He reveals Himself most clearly in His absence, in the silence that follows our cries.
This understanding has hit me like a tidal wave, pulling me under. Life’s meaning—the joy, the boundless beauty, the love we hold close—emerges not from our triumphs, but from our deepest sorrows.
I realized that without life’s brutal edges, love would have no true ground to stand on. Joy and beauty don’t just exist on their own; they are shaped and given voice by the pain we endure. It’s through the wreckage of our hearts that love’s true light shines.
It wasn’t a gentle revelation, and it didn’t come easily. I wandered through darkness to grasp it. It’s unsettling to think that God’s presence might be most palpable in the cruelest, darkest corners of our lives… but a comfort too, no?
It makes sense if you’re disillusioned, heartbroken by the world—it can be merciless & cruel in a way that feels deliberate. Especially the pain we are subjected to as children.
But I’ve come to see that it’s a mistake to focus solely on the world’s wounds, to only see the cracks and not the light that slips through them. Our moments of joy, our pleasures, are not denials of the world’s suffering. They’re not betrayals of those we’ve lost or of our own grief. They are the vital, God-touched expressions of what it means to be human.
We are, all of us, broken vessels, but it’s through those breaks that the light finds its way in. Faith isn’t something you search for; it’s something that finds you, a gift of grace that soothes the soul.
B 🤍
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