Stop Arguing With The Gift

The house is quiet now, and the only sound left is the voice in your head telling you that you asked for too much. You whispered a plea into the dark, and for a moment you felt relief—until the shame rushed back in to tell you that someone like you doesn't get to be forgiven.

That you are too broken, too far gone, too unworthy of the mercy you just requested. But listen.

The light does not calculate your worth before it answers. It saw you before you even spoke.

It knows the shape of your shame better than you do, and it does not turn away. What you feel as paralysis is just the echo of a lie you've believed for years—that you must clean yourself up before you can be held.

You don't. The mercy is already given.

The only thing left to do is stop arguing with the gift.