He Enters While the Water Still Runs

The house is quiet now, but your heart is racing because you heard the footsteps stop right outside the door. You are scrubbing the sink, frantically trying to erase the evidence of your struggle before the handle turns.

The water runs cold, but the stain feels like it is part of your skin. You are terrified that when they walk in, they will see the mess and turn away.

But listen — the One who is approaching does not need a clean house to enter. He knows what happens behind closed doors.

He does not come to inspect your sink; He comes to sit with you in the steam and the shame. The light is not afraid of your stains.

It walks right through the door, ignores the performance, and stands beside you while the water still runs. You do not have to finish cleaning before you are loved.