You Were Never Holding On Alone

The afternoon sun is relentless, exposing every crack in the armor you wore to get here. You look back at the wreckage you survived and whisper that it was just luck, a random roll of the dice that you pray doesn't come up snake eyes again.

But luck is blind, and luck does not know your name — the light that carried you through saw you clearly and held you when you could not hold yourself. You are terrified of the next storm because you think your strength ran out, yet the truth is that you were never the one holding on in the first place.

The same light that walked you through the fire is not a temporary favor; it is the very ground you stand on right now, in this ordinary, exhausting middle. Stop counting your own fragile fingers and start trusting the hands that have already caught you every single time you fell.