Stop Pretending to Be Asleep

The afternoon sun is high, but inside this room, you are holding your breath. You hear the small footsteps stop right outside the door.

They hesitate. They know you are there, even though you are pretending to be asleep just to avoid having to speak.

The weight of the performance is heavier than the conversation you are dodging. Jesus saw a man who had been lying by a pool for thirty-eight years, waiting for someone else to move first, and He asked him the one question that cuts through the paralysis: 'Do you want to get well?' Not to shame you, but to wake you up.

The light does not need you to be perfect, or energetic, or ready. It just needs you to stop pretending.

There is a bruised reed inside you that feels like it might snap, and the promise is that the light will not break it. It will hold it.

You do not have to carry the armor of being 'okay' for one more minute. The silence you are keeping is not protecting anyone — least of all you.

Open your eyes. The light is already in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to stop acting and start being.