The Light That Holds The Shards

The house is quiet, but the question echoing in your mind is loud enough to shatter the walls. If someone asked how you really are tonight, your throat would close, because the truth is too heavy to speak and too dangerous to hold.

You have learned to wear the mask that keeps the room safe, even as it suffocates you. But listen — the light does not need your performance to find you.

It sees the silence behind your eyes and calls it holy. There is a Father who runs toward the son while he is still covered in the filth of the pig pen, before the apology is even formed on his lips.

He does not wait for the speech. He runs.

The truth you are hiding is not a barrier to the light — it is the very thing the light is searching for. You do not have to shatter the room to be held; the light can hold the shards.