You are here for such a time as this.
Not just for the golden moments—the ones so brilliant they make you squint. Not just for the laughter that echoes, the love that swells, the days where everything feels right and whole.
But you are also here for the nights so thick with darkness that you can’t see even the faintest shimmer of hope. For the moments when breathing feels like a task too heavy to bear, when the ache in your chest is louder than the sound of your own heartbeat. For the days when sorrow presses in, when you stand beneath the water’s stream, unsure if it’s your tears or the shower cascading down your face.
Even here, you are meant to be.
This is not wasted time. Not a forgotten chapter or an empty space in your story. Even this—especially this—has been woven with purpose, stitched with care by hands that do not make mistakes. What feels like brokenness will be gathered and redeemed, not just for your own good, but for the good of those whose lives will be touched by your presence, your survival, your story.
You are here for such a time as this.
Even in the darkness, even in the waiting, even in the unraveling—this moment, too, matters.
For such a time as even this.
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