What I No Longer Carry
by Candace L. Smith
I once believed
hell waited for me somewhere beyond this life—
a distant fire,
a final judgment.
But I have walked through it here,
quietly,
lovingly,
while smiling.
I have burned in rooms where my giving was expected,
where my prayers were required,
where my silence was mistaken for strength.
I mistook survival for holiness.
I mistook exhaustion for devotion.
I mistook sacrifice for love.
But I am learning.
Hell is not a place I fear anymore.
It is a lesson I recognize.
It is staying too long.
It is giving without return.
It is loving without protection.
Now, I carry my heart differently.
I hold my faith with open hands,
not clenched fists.
I no longer bleed to prove I care.
I no longer disappear to keep the peace.
I no longer offer my cup to those who refuse to pour back.
What I carry now is lighter—
discernment,
truth,
rest.
And if this is what survival looks like,
then let it be said:
I walked through hell
and came back
with my spirit intact.


Comments
Post a Comment