You Are Loved When You Lie Still

The afternoon sun is high, and the work of holding everyone else up feels endless. You carry the solutions, the fixes, the steady hands, because you are terrified that if you stop, the silence will reveal there is nothing loveable underneath.

But listen — there was a man who had been ill for thirty-eight years, lying beside a pool while everyone else rushed past him. Jesus did not ask him to fix his legs or prove his worth.

He simply asked: 'Do you want to get well?' The light does not love you for what you carry. It loves you for who you are when you are lying still.

You are not the utility that keeps the house running. You are the beloved who is already known.

Drop the weight. The ground will hold you.