The Woman at the Garden Gate: The Silent Night, Series Part 4

There are whispers we hear that change us.  Not because they’re loud, but because they touch something eternal within us.  I once heard such a whisper – a promise wrapped in softness, and then....it was gone.

In its place came silence.

And in that silence, the invitation:

Surrender.

What followed was not a race to reclaim the voice, but a slow becoming.  A journey into trust, presence, and the quiet light that never leaves.

The Silent Night

In surrender, I discovered something unshakeable.  The light was not the whisper.

It was in me.

Each pause, each unanswered prayer, each stretch of stillness – they were altars.  Moments of preparation, not punishment.

And now, when I return to where the whisper began, I no longer ask for it to return. 

I remember it.

Because sometimes the guidance we seek isn’t meant to be heard again – it's meant to be embodied.

Let this be a comfort:

Even when nothing seems to be moving...something sacred is.

Even when the whisper fades...your light remains.

You are not late.

You are not forgotten.

You are unfolding, divinely and exactly as you should.