🧱Entry 010 // Sanctified in Static
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I used to beg the silence to say something.
Until I realized the static had sermons too.
I sat in rooms that felt like waiting rooms for God.
And maybe He never showed, but I did.
Bruised. Awake. Breathing anyway.
If pain was the preacher,
then I was the altar call —
showing up even when the faith was gone.
The gospel is this:
Sometimes your holiness is forged in chaos.
And the hymn is just you surviving.
Reflection:
Where did you find meaning when nothing made sense?