Let the walls fall, the light remains

The house is quiet now, but your hands are still holding up the walls you built for everyone else. You are terrified that if you finally let go, the whole structure will crash down and the people you love will turn away from the rubble.

But listen — the light inside you was never held up by your grip. It was there before you started carrying the weight.

There is a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off — broken, empty, with nothing left to offer — and he ran. Before the apology, before the promise to do better — he ran.

The light does not need your strength to stay alive. It shines even when your hands are empty.

Let the walls fall. The light remains.