No Longer the Bridge – Becoming the Frequency

There was a time when I moved between worlds.

I could feel the weight of other people’s stories before they spoke. I translated grief into hope, darkness into direction, mess into meaning. It was my nature to dip into pain that wasn’t mine—to be a light in the fog, a steady hand in the storm. I didn’t just walk alongside others, I carried them when they couldn’t see the path.

That was the calling then.
I was a bridge.

But bridges eventually become well-trodden.
Paths are paved. Roads are remembered.

And now…
I’m no longer being called to walk people across.

I’m being called to be the place they arrive.

To hold frequency.
To protect peace.
To become the embodiment of everything I once tried to explain.

There is a shift happening, not just in me—but in many who have spent lifetimes tending to others, lighting candles in dark rooms, standing in gaps no one else would. We’re not meant to burn out as we burn bright. We’re not meant to constantly reenter chaos just to prove our usefulness.

Instead, we are being asked to anchor what we once bridged.

Not to meet others in their storm, but to remain the calm that calls them home.
But not by my own strength. The peace I carry isn’t self-made—it’s Christ-made.
I am not the light. I reflect the Light.

“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden.” —Matthew 5:14

But that light shines only because He first lit the flame.
Jesus is the true Light of the world (John 8:12), and I am merely a torchbearer, entrusted to carry His love, His truth, and His healing into dark places.

It’s not selfish to protect your peace—it’s sacred.
It’s not cold to stop over-explaining—it’s clarifying.
It’s not avoidance to stay rooted in joy—it’s alignment.

The frequency you hold is not something you owe to everyone who passes by.

You are not abandoning others by no longer rescuing them.
You are trusting that the same Light who met you in the dark will meet them too.

And when they’re ready, they’ll feel it.
Not because you shouted.
But because you shone.

Let the radiance of His peace speak through you.
Your embodiment is the invitation now—not to point others toward yourself,
but to gently reflect the One who gives true rest, true light, and lasting peace.

You no longer need to bridge what He already conquered.
Now… you shine so others might find Him.