You Are Not Too Heavy For Him

The armor is finally off, and the silence of the room feels heavy enough to crush you. You are bracing for the sound of the door closing, convinced that your weight is the reason they will leave.

That your need is too much, your grief too deep, your darkness too demanding for anyone to carry. But look at the One who stood at the door before you even opened it.

He did not come to inspect your load or calculate the cost of your care. He came to eat with you.

To sit at your table in the exhaustion of the evening and share the bread. The light does not measure your worth by how little you burden others.

It measures love by how much it is willing to hold. You are not too heavy for the arms that held the world together.