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Before healing, before heartbreak, before I ever understood the purpose behind my pain, there was a Voice.
Not loud.
Not forceful.
Just steady… and deeply familiar.
A Voice that knew me before I knew myself.
A Voice that could find me in any darkness.
A Voice that didn’t ask me to be strong, only to be still.
I didn’t hear it with my ears at first.
I felt it.
In the quiet places where fear used to live,
In the broken places I had learned to hide,
In the soft places I didn’t know still existed.
And when that Voice called…
it called me by name.
Everything in me shifted.
Because God doesn’t call the version of you shaped by the world
He calls the version He created.
(the poem follows opening reflection)