Where We Came From: The Light Before the Flame

Before the wind knew your name, before the stars had numbered themselves, before breath and blood and bone—you were light.

Not metaphor. Not symbol. You were intelligence—eternal, aware, curious. A knowing spark in the vastness.

The old ones say God looked upon you—not as a toy, not as a servant, but as a child of equal origin. And in that divine love, offered you something more: a spirit body, shaped in light and will. And then—eventually—a physical body, born through struggle and pain, placed into a world full of beauty and shadow.

Why? Because without form, there is no contrast. Without contrast, no growth. Without hunger, no feast. Without sorrow, no joy.

You came here to learn. To fall. To rise. To cry, and to laugh so hard you forget your name.

You came to learn compassion. To understand empathy. To choose love—not because it’s easy, but because it’s right.

God did not send you to be punished. You came here to progress. To remember the divine within you, not through ease—but through effort.

🌟 You Were Not Sent Alone

You were not dropped here like a stone. You were woven in. The rocks, the rivers, the beasts, the trees—they are your siblings. The wind knows your name because it’s always known. The stars sing back when you look at them. The grass softens under your bare feet, remembering who you were.

And the Divine—Mother, Father, Spirit—watches still. Gently. Patiently. Not demanding perfection, but longing for your return to wisdom.

Your body is not a prison. It is a temple of sensation and choice. Your trials are not punishments. They are assignments—lessons custom-fit to your soul.

You are not being tested to fail. You are being taught to fly.