🕊 Soul Journal entry: A Whisper for the Sleeping World

 🕊 A Whisper for the Sleeping World

There was a time when we knew. 
Not from books, not from sermons— 
But from the way water shimmered when we cried, 
from the way flowers leaned toward us like old friends, 
from the ache in our chest when we saw the stars 
and felt, somehow, that we had been there before.

We knew love not as a word, 
but as a presence. 
Kindness is not a virtue, 
But as a frequency. 
God not as a figure, 
but as the breath beneath all things.

But somewhere along the way, 
We forgot.

We learned to trust only what we could touch. 
We traded wonder for certainty, 
and mystery for control. 
We turned sacred stories into systems, 
and love into law.

And yet— 
There are still those who feel the ache. 
Who cry at the sight of injustice, 
who dream of a love so vast it cannot be contained. 
Who feel sick when hatred is called holy, 
and restless when beauty is ignored.

This post is for them. 
For the ones who are still sleeping, 
but stirring. 
For the ones who feel something rising in their chest 
when they hear a song, 
or see a child’s eyes, 
or touch the ocean.

You are not broken. 
You are remembering.

Jesus did not come to build a religion. 
He came to remind us 
that we are reflections of divine love. 
We are part of God, 
and that love is the only truth that survives death.

They killed Him for that love. 
But love rose again. 
And it rises still— 
in you, in me, in every act of tenderness 
That defies the noise.

So sleep, if you must. 
But know this: 
The lullaby is not meant to keep you dreaming. 
It is meant to wake you gently 
into the truth you’ve always carried.