The Mask Is Heavy, But You Are Loved

The day is ending, and the mask you wore so well is finally heavy enough to take off. You fear that if your siblings saw the truth—that you are not happy, just skilled at pretending—they would be disappointed.

But the light does not look at your performance and sigh. It looks at the exhaustion beneath it and whispers: go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you.

The pretense was never required. The tears you cried while everyone laughed were seen.

The silence you kept at the table was heard. You do not have to earn your place at the feast by being the joyful one.

The light loves the real you, not the act. And those who truly belong to you will love the real you too, once you let the mask fall.