The Light Rests With You In Dark

The house is quiet now, but the shame is loud. It whispers that your children see only the cracks in your armor, that you are a burden they must carry instead of the parent who holds them.

You replay the moments you broke down, convinced they recorded your weakness as their fault. But listen — there is a kingdom inside you that your exhaustion cannot touch.

It was there before the fatigue, and it remains beneath the shame. What you see as failure, the light sees as honest humanity.

You do not need to be perfect to be loved by them; you only need to be present. The light is not disappointed in your tiredness.

It is resting right there with you in the dark, waiting for you to realize that being known is enough.