The Pillar of Light Inside the Soul

There comes a moment in the interior journey when effort gives way to trust.

It is not a dramatic moment. There is no announcement. It arrives quietly and often after we have grown tired of trying to lead ourselves. This is where I find myself now, somewhere between knowing what to do and learning how to be led.

In Exodus, the people are not given a map. They are given a presence. A pillar of cloud by day. A pillar of fire by night and a pillar of light inside the soul. They are taught to move not by certainty, but by attention.

I recognise this lesson in my own prayer life.

So often I want clarity before movement. I want reassurance before surrender. I want to understand the path before I place my foot upon it. But God does not always guide us with explanations. Sometimes He guides us with nearness.

Saint Teresa speaks of this shift in the interior life the moment when prayer becomes less about what we do and more about what we receive. The soul begins to realise it does not need to manufacture holiness. It needs only to remain available.

Availability requires trust.

This week, that trust is being asked of me in the studio as well. My work feels quieter, less certain, more dependent on listening. I no longer arrive at the canvas with answers. I arrive with attention. With patience. With a willingness to follow what reveals itself one step at a time.

The pillar does not light the entire desert.

It lights enough for the next step.

And that has to be enough.

Perhaps this is the invitation of Advent’s third week to loosen our grip on control and to notice the ways we are already being guided. To trust the warmth that stays with us even when the road ahead remains unseen.

You may not feel sure.

You may not feel prepared.

But if you are paying attention, if you are listening for presence rather than certainty then you are already being led.

And that, too, is grace.