TRACES OF GRACE

Photo by madeleine craine on Unsplash.

I saw glimpses of Him

in blue lights

dancing on walls,

flickering through the pages

of my life.

I felt His warmth

wrap around me—

like a sunlit hush

on a summer’s day,

a breath of peace

when all else trembled.

His voice

never loud,

but always there—

whispered truths

woven into the quiet,

painted in lullabies

never sung aloud,

just flickers

of hope.

He moved through the silence

between my fears,

between the breaking

and the healing.

In every still moment,

He stayed.

I’ve felt Him in the hush

of early morning light,

in tears that fell

without reason,

in the steady rise

of my chest

when I forgot how to breathe.

And though I cannot

touch His hands,

I feel His fingerprints

on everything—

in the soft unfolding

of a new day,

in the mercy

that finds me anyway.

He is the light

that never burns out,

the love

that asks for nothing

but my heart.

EVen when I doubted,

even when I wandered,

He was there—

not in thunder,

but in the quiet

that kept me alive.