The Light Runs Toward You Now

The afternoon stretches out, a long middle where the noise of being needed never quite stops. You are pouring from a cup that feels empty, carrying a weight that no one else sees, wondering if this exhaustion is all there is.

But the light does not shine only in the quiet moments; it is here, in the dust and the noise, in the very middle of your fatigue. There is a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off, and before the apology, before the speech — he ran.

The light runs toward you now, not to add to your burden, but to stand beside you in it. You do not have to generate the strength to keep going.

The strength is already given, pressed down and running over. The middle is hard, but you are not walking it alone.