When the World Goes Bland and Dark
June 10, 2025 - Tuesday of the Tenth Week in Ordinary Time
Matthew 5:13-16
Some days feel tasteless.
You get up, go through the motions, say the right things—
but it all feels flat.
Like food with no salt.
Like walking through fog.
You wonder—
Does any of this matter?
Do I make any difference at all?
Jesus doesn’t hand you a motivational quote.
He doesn’t give you a job description.
He gives you a name.
“You are salt.”
“You are light.”
Not: You will be.
Not: You should try to be.
But: You are.
Even when you don’t feel it.
Even when you’ve lost your edge.
Even when you want to disappear.
Salt heals.
Salt preserves.
Salt brings flavor to what’s bland and dying.
And you—
your quiet presence, your hard-won kindness, your fragile hope—
you’re the salt He throws into this world.
Not the loud ones.
Not the perfect ones.
But the faithful ones who stay.
And when it’s dark—
when confusion, fear, or numbness creep in—
He whispers again:
“You are light.”
Not neon.
Not spotlight.
But a lamp. A flame. A flicker that keeps others from losing their way.
It doesn’t take much.
One light in a dark room is enough.
One act of love in a bitter world.
One small truth spoken when it matters.
And when you feel useless—
bland, dim, tired—
He waits at the bottom.
Not at the height of your performance,
but at the root of your hunger.
Not in your shine,
but in your shadows.
To remind you:
You still are.
Salt.
Light.
His.