When the Mask Finally Slips Away

The house is quiet now, and the mask you wore all day has finally slipped from your face. You are so tired of holding yourself together when everything inside feels like it is breaking.

But in this stillness, you do not need to perform strength for an audience of one. There was a man who had been paralyzed for years, carried by friends who dug through a roof just to get him near the light.

When Jesus saw not the man's effort, but the faith of those who carried him, he said simply: 'Son, your sins are forgiven.' He saw the burden you cannot put down and called it by name. And then he said to another who sat weeping at his feet, covered in shame: 'Your many sins have been forgiven—as your great love has shown.' The light does not ask you to be strong.

It asks you to be honest. You are not held together by your own will, but by a love that saw you crumbling and called it enough.