What Was Never Gone

When you feel lost, it is not loss at all—only the quiet forgetting of who you are. You do not leave yourself. You do not become less. Even in the seasons when your name feels distant on your own tongue, you are still there, whole beneath the noise, unchanged in the place no life can reach. God does not misplace what He has made. There is no version of you that has ever been erased. Only moments when you turned your face away from your own light long enough to wonder if it still exists. But it does. It always does. You are not becoming someone new so much as returning to what was never gone—like breath remembering the body, like dawn remembering the sky, like the soul remembering itself through you.