The Light Enters Your Brokenness

The house is quiet now, but your mind is loud with the fear of morning. You are terrified of the moment their eyes find out what you have been hiding in the dark.

The shame feels like a weight that will crush you when the truth comes out. But listen — the light does not run from your brokenness.

It enters it. There was a man lowered through a roof by friends who saw his need before he even spoke, and the light said simply: take heart.

Your children do not need a perfect parent. They need a present one.

The truth you fear is the very thing that will set you free to be real with them. The light is already in the room where you are weeping, waiting for you to stop hiding.

You are not defined by the addiction that held you, but by the love that is holding you now.