You Are Held, Not Holding

The house is quiet now, but your mind is shouting lists of everything that could fall if you close your eyes. You believe the lie that your vigilance is the only thing holding the walls up.

That if you sleep, the structure collapses. But the light does not need your exhaustion to sustain the world.

There was a man who had been paralyzed for thirty-eight years, lying beside a pool, convinced he needed to be the first one in or he would be left behind. Jesus did not ask him to prove his worth or his speed.

He simply said: get up. The command to rest is not a threat to your livelihood; it is an invitation to stop carrying a weight you were never meant to hold.

The kingdom is not built on your insomnia. It is already inside you, waiting for you to stop striving so you can feel it.

You are not the pillar holding up the sky. You are the child being held.