The Light Sees Your Trembling Hand

The engine is off now. The silence in the driveway is loud enough to hear your own heartbeat.

You are terrified that when you open the door, they will see the crack in the performance. They will see the exhaustion you tried to leave in the car.

But the light does not need your mask to be intact. It sees the trembling hand on the steering wheel and calls it holy.

The Father is not waiting for a perfect arrival. He is already inside the house, watching the window, waiting for the sound of your key.

You do not have to fix the crack before you walk in. The light shines brightest through the broken places.

You are not a performance to be admired. You are a child to be held.