The Light Loves Your Broken Pieces

The afternoon sun is bright, and you are tired of pretending it warms you. You walk through the middle of the day wearing a mask that says you are fine, that your faith is solid, while inside your soul is screaming.

It is a heavy thing to perform peace when you are falling apart. The gap between your face and your heart feels like a canyon you cannot cross.

But the light does not need your performance. It sees the crack in the mask and calls it holy ground.

There is a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off. He ran.

Before the apology, before the speech — he ran. The light is already running toward the part of you that is breaking.

You do not have to fix the scream to be held. The silence behind your noise is where the real connection lives.

Stop trying to look intact. The light loves the broken pieces more than the perfect whole.