You Are Held Before You Run

The house is quiet now, and the silence feels like a verdict. You keep moving because you are terrified that if you stop achieving, you will simply cease to exist.

But listen — the light does not require your output to remain lit. There was a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off, still covered in the filth of failure, and he ran.

Before the apology, before the promise to do better — he ran. Your worth is not something you earn by staying awake.

It is something you are, simply because you breathe. The kingdom of God is within you, not above you waiting for you to climb.

You do not have to prove you deserve the air you are breathing tonight. The light is not a reward for your labor; it is the ground you stand on.

Stop running. You are already held.