Before She Hit Send
Cold phone light cuts across her bed as her thumb hovers over a cruel comment. Then the screen stops feeling distant, and her own week starts staring back at her
Ava sat on the edge of her bed, lit by the cold glow of her phone, scrolling through strangers tearing a girl apart for her voice, her clothes, and her cheap ring light. In 2026, the comment box made cruelty feel easy, and Ava had already typed hers. Then Jesus met her there, not arguing about the video, but turning the light back on her own week: the lie at home, the screenshot she had shared, the apology she kept delaying. What right does anyone have to zoom in on someone else’s mess while hiding their own? He made the lesson plain: people cannot see clearly enough to help until they are honest about themselves first. Ava deleted the comment, sent the apology, and turned her phone face down. The video stayed imperfect, and so did she, but she was no longer standing above another person. The room was the same; her eyes were not.
#jesus