He Is Not Tired of Your Tears

The house is quiet now, and so is your voice. You have stopped telling them the truth because you are convinced they are tired of hearing how much you hurt.

You carry the weight alone, believing your silence is a gift to them. But there is a Father who watches the road, eyes straining against the dark, not waiting for a polished speech but for your face to appear.

He is not weary of your story. He is not tired of your tears.

The light within you was placed there precisely for moments when the world has no more room for your pain. It does not sleep.

It does not grow impatient. It holds what you can no longer say.

You do not have to perform strength for an audience that has already left; the only One who matters is still listening, and He is not tired.