Loved Simply Because You Exist

The afternoon sun is high, and the work feels heavy. You have been carrying so much, convinced that if you stop producing, the love will stop too.

That if you lay down your tools, you will be left alone in the dust. But the light does not love you for your output.

It loves you because you are here. There was a man by a pool for thirty-eight years, unable to work, unable to contribute, unable to offer anything but his brokenness.

And the light walked straight to him. It did not ask for his resume.

It did not ask him to fix himself first. It simply said: get up.

Your worth is not tied to your labor. You are not a machine that must earn its keep.

The love you are looking for is already holding you, even in your stillness. Put down the weight.

You are loved simply because you exist.