Holy Stillness in the Hiding Place

The house has settled into that heavy, waiting silence. You lie perfectly still, holding your breath, hoping the floorboards won't creak and give you away.

The door handle feels like a threat. The voices outside are a countdown to a question you don't have the energy to answer.

In this gathering dark, the performance of 'ready' feels like a mountain you cannot climb tonight. But listen — the light does not require you to open the door.

It does not demand you stand up and pretend. There is a peace that exists even in the hiding, even in the stillness of a room where you feel too small to face the world.

The Father is not waiting outside to scold you for not being ready. He is already in the room, sitting in the dark with you, keeping watch while you gather your strength.

You do not have to move for the light to find you. It sees you exactly where you are, and it calls this moment holy.