The Watch Is Over, The Light Remains

The house is quiet, but your ears are tuned to the rhythm of a small chest rising and falling. You lie here rehearsing every sharp word, every missed cue, convinced that tonight you broke something that cannot be fixed.

The darkness feels heavy with your failure. But listen — the breathing continues.

Steady. Unbroken.

The light that lives inside your child was there before your anger and it remains after your mistake. It came from the light, and to the light it belongs.

You did not origin their soul; you only steward it for a while. The rhythm you are listening to is not held by your perfection.

It is held by the One who placed it there. You can stop watching now.

The watch is over.