Loved Before You Had Anything to Give

It is late, and the silence of the house feels like a verdict on your worth. You are exhausted from holding everything together, terrified that if you stopped giving, the room would empty and the love would vanish with it.

But the light does not keep a ledger of what you produce or how much you sacrifice to stay invited. There was a man by a well who thought he had to earn a drink, yet the light looked at him and said, 'I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you.' It saw him before he performed, before he spoke, before he offered anything of value.

The light knows you not for what you give, but for who you are when you have nothing left to offer. You are not a transaction waiting to be completed.

You are a child who is loved simply because you exist.