The Sun Rises Even When You Are Still

The house is quiet now, and the terror arrives—the fear that if you finally stop moving, you will dissolve into nothing and never start again. You hold your breath, convinced that stillness is the end of you.

But there is a rising sun coming from heaven, shining on those living in the shadow of death, to guide your feet into the path of peace. The light does not need your motion to exist; it was there before you started running, and it will be there if you collapse.

You are not holding yourself together by force; you are being held by something that cannot be shaken. Stop.

The dissolving you fear is only the mask falling away, revealing what was always solid beneath. The sun rises even when you are still.