I See The Light

I watched Tangled again last night—my favorite Disney movie. No matter how many times I’ve seen it, it still tugs at something deep inside me. There’s a kind of magic in that story that goes beyond the fairytale—it’s light and laughter, dreams and bravery, love and healing. But more than anything, it’s that one scene—the lanterns—that always undoes me in the most beautiful way.

I always cry when they sit together in that boat, eyes wide, hearts wide open, watching those lanterns rise into the night sky. There’s something so achingly beautiful about it. It’s the colors, the music, the quiet wonder on their faces—but it’s also something more. It’s the hope that floats with each glowing light. The belief that even after all the pain, all the confusion, all the years lost in darkness, there is still something breathtaking waiting to be found.

I think it moves me so much because, in a way, I see myself in it. I see us.

Life hasn’t gone the way I thought it would. It’s been hard in ways I never could’ve imagined. I’ve watched the person I love fade into shadows some days—watched the weight of illness and fear and struggle press in so close that it feels like the walls are closing, too. I’ve fought battles I didn’t ask for, prayed prayers I never thought I’d need, and carried love like armor through nights that were anything but peaceful.

But still—I dream. Still, I hope. Still, I light my own lantern and let it rise.

That lantern scene reminds me that even in the darkest chapters, light still breaks through. That no matter how tangled the journey, no matter how many times we feel lost, something beautiful is always just ahead, waiting to surprise us. It reminds me that love can grow in the most unexpected places, that healing can come slowly like the dawn, and that maybe, just maybe, everything we’ve walked through is leading us to a moment of wonder like that one.

As the lanterns float higher, I cry—not just because it’s beautiful, but because I believe in that kind of beauty. The kind that comes after pain. The kind that makes you catch your breath and whisper, “This is worth it.”

I think we all have our lanterns—our dreams, our prayers, our silent longings. We release them into the unknown, not knowing if they’ll reach the heavens or fall back down. But we still let them go. That’s faith. That’s courage. That’s love.

And maybe that’s why I keep watching Tangled. Because even when life feels overwhelming, that scene reminds me: there is light. There is beauty. There is still something worth crying over—not in sadness, but in awe.

Last night, I let the tears fall. And I whispered to myself in the glow of the screen: Don’t stop believing in the light. Even if you can’t see it yet. Even if it’s far away. It’s coming. And when it does… you’ll be ready.