🪞 Gospel 007 // Glassblood Grace

I never meant to survive — not like this. Not with this much silence in my bones.

Every time I tried to rebuild, I used pieces that still bled.
Shards of past selves. Splinters from old lies.
I made a stained-glass self-portrait and called it healing.

But there’s grace in broken things.
Grace in what leaks, limps, limps again.
Grace in what never pretended to be whole.

The seventh gospel is this:
Grace is not for the healed.
It’s for the ones still bleeding on the altar.

Reflection:
Where have you been bleeding in silence, and who told you it wasn’t holy?

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