Out of the Box, Near the Light: Coming Home

I used to live in a box.
The inherited box of beliefs,
identity boxes composed by the environment,
the morality box that makes me feel like I have to be their version of “good,”
not my soul version.

I used to think,
obey means obey.
Silence means sacred.
Rejecting oneself is the highest form of love for God.

But slowly, my soul rebelled.
Not wanting to run away,
but actually want to go home.

I began to see that God
never forced me to be anything.
God just wants me know, accept, and love myself completely —
with all my wounds and light,
with all my tears and prayers.

I once felt broken,
which made me learn to sit on the floor of life —
without a name, without a title, without a role.

And that's where I found myself.
The real me.
Not a version polished by dogma or culture,
but version honest, vulnerable, and free.

I'm not lost.
I'm just returned to God through an unusual path —
a path rarely touched by other humans,
the path that no human finger points to,
but whispered by a voice inside me silently.

I'm not running away from God.
I am actually removing the layers that keep me away from Him —
a layer that obscures the essence of God's grace itself.

Now, I live not to be accepted,
but to be honest.
I live not to look holy,
but to feel whole.

And I know, my true God...
He is here,
in my loving heartbeat —
He fills my heart with love,
not with afraid.

Now that I've let go
any “topping” that hinders my way of worshiping Him,
I love Him more and more —
who is fully present in every day of my life,
not just at certain times.