Loved Before You Ever Smiled

The house is quiet now, and the mask you wore all day has finally slipped. You look in the mirror, searching for a face that isn't performing, and for a moment, you don't recognize the person staring back.

The smile is gone, and the exhaustion is raw, and you wonder if there is anything left of you when no one is watching. But the light does not need your performance to see you.

It knows the face behind the mask better than you do. There was a woman who washed feet with her tears, and the light told her that her great love proved she was already forgiven—not after she fixed herself, but right there, broken and wet-eyed.

You are not a stranger to the light, even when you are a stranger to yourself. The dawn is coming to reveal what the darkness tried to hide: you were loved before you ever smiled.