I enjoy watching a flickering light.

Not because it’s strong or steady, but because it stays.

Even when it wavers, it refuses to go out.

A flickering light doesn’t pretend to have control over the wind.

It simply keeps burning with what it has.

Some moments it shines boldly, other moments it barely whispers, but both are light.

There are seasons in life when faith feels like that.

Not bright enough to flood the room.

Not strong enough to erase every shadow.

Yet present. 

Faithful. 

Alive.

And maybe that’s the invitation:

not to demand constancy from ourselves,

but to trust that God works even through the flicker.

That His presence isn’t measured by intensity,

but by endurance.

A flickering light still points the way,

Still warms.

Still testifies that darkness never fully wins.

Sometimes, staying lit, IS THE MIRACLE ✨