Held While You Tremble in the Dark

The day has finally stopped moving, and now the only thing left to do is lie still. You are holding your breath so the person beside you won't feel the shaking.

You are making yourself small, quiet, invisible, terrified that if you tremble, you will wake them up — or worse, that they will know how broken you really are. But the light does not need you to be steady to love you.

It sees the effort it takes to hold the storm inside your own skin. You do not have to perform peace for the sake of the room.

The Father's love is not afraid of your trembling; it is present in the very space between your fear and their sleep. You are not a burden because you are hurting.

You are held, even when you are shaking. The light is not waiting for you to stop; it is waiting with you in the dark.