You Are The Destination Not A Drain

The house is quiet enough now that the lie has room to grow. It tells you that your presence is a theft.

That by staying, you are draining something precious from someone who deserves better than your brokenness. In this hour, the weight of your own existence feels like a burden you are forcing onto shoulders that should be free.

But listen to the silence. The light that lives inside you was not given conditionally.

It was placed there before you ever made a mistake, before you ever felt like too much. There is a story of a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off.

He did not calculate the cost of the feast. He did not worry that the son would steal the joy from the household.

He ran. Before the apology, before the speech—he ran.

The light does not count what you take. It only knows what it gives.

You are not stealing love by being here. You are the very reason the love was poured out in the first place.

The fear says you are a drain. The truth says you are the destination.