The Well That Never Runs Dry

The house is quiet now, but the silence feels heavy because you noticed it tonight. You realized your child has stopped asking you for help.

They have decided, in their own young heart, that you cannot provide what they need anymore. That you are empty.

That the well has run dry. And the weight of that assumption is crushing you in the dark.

But listen. There is a voice that speaks into this exact kind of grief, a voice that says: do not weep, and do not be irresolute.

For grace will be entirely with you and will protect you. Entirely.

Not partially. Not just enough to get by.

The light that lives inside you is not a limited resource your child can exhaust. It is a spring that wells up from a source they cannot see.

You do not have to prove your capacity to them tonight. You just have to remain open to the One who fills you.

The moment they stopped asking is not the moment you became useless. It is the moment you are invited to stop striving and start receiving again.

The grace is already there, waiting to overflow through you, even if they don't know to ask.