The Light Runs Toward Brokenness

The house is quiet, but you know they are awake too. You feel the terrible weight of their silence, the way they have learned to swallow their own tears so they do not add to the burden you are already carrying.

It is a specific kind of darkness when love looks like hiding. But listen — the light does not need you to be strong for each other.

There was a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off. He ran.

Before the apology, before the speech — he ran. The light runs toward the brokenness, not away from it.

It does not wait for you to clean up the mess before it enters the room. Your pain is not too heavy for the love that holds you both.

The darkness has not overcome it. You do not have to carry the night alone.