The Light Runs Toward Your Brokenness

The hand pulls away, and in that small space, the panic screams that you have finally been found out. That the fraud is visible, and the leaving has begun.

But the darkness lies about what it means to be known. There was a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off, covered in the filth of his own failure.

He did not wait for the apology. He ran.

The light does not run from your brokenness; it runs toward it. The hand that withdraws in fear is not the hand of the Father.

God's love is not a contract you break by being human. It is a light that was inside you before the first mistake, and it remains after the last one.

You are not a fraud waiting to be exposed. You are a child waiting to be held.