The Father Ran Before The Speech

The house is silent, but your mind is screaming that if they saw the messy drafts of your life, they would walk away. That the real you is a fraud waiting to be exposed.

In this deepest hour, the fear feels like a verdict. But listen.

The light does not wait for you to edit your story before it stays. It has already seen the drafts.

Every crossed-out line, every failed attempt, every hidden shame. And it has not left.

There was a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off. He did not wait for the speech.

He did not wait for the apology. He ran.

Before the boy could explain himself, the father's arms were around him. The embrace came first.

The light knows what is in you. It knows the drafts.

And it loves you not despite the mess, but right into the center of it. You are not a fraud to be tolerated.

You are a child to be held. The darkness lies about your worth.

The light knows the truth and stays anyway.