He Ran Before You Could Apologize

The house is quiet now, and the old fear is whispering that you are too heavy for the people who love you. That your pain is a weight they are tired of carrying.

That your presence is a burden they wish they could put down. But listen — there is a Father who saw you coming while you were still a long way off.

He did not brace himself for your arrival. He ran.

Before you could apologize, before you could explain, he threw his arms around you and kissed you. The light does not measure your worth by how much you take or how little you give.

It simply sees you. And it runs.

You are not the storm that breaks the boat. You are the reason the light walks on the water to find you.

The gathering dark cannot convince you that you are unwanted when the Love that made you is already holding you close.