Let Go, The Light Holds You

The day has gathered its dark around you, and the weight of it is heavy on your shoulders. You are so tired.

Not just in your body, but in the place where you keep your hope. There was a man who carried a boy through years of torment, watching him seize and suffer, until he had nothing left to give but a ragged, honest cry: 'I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief.' He did not have to summon strength he did not possess.

He simply offered his exhaustion. The light does not ask you to be strong right now.

It does not demand that you fix the darkness or pretend the weariness isn't real. It meets you exactly here, in the gathering dark, and says: I am able to keep you from stumbling.

You do not have to hold yourself up tonight. Let go.

The light is already holding you.