You Are Not The Shelter

The mask feels heaviest when small hands tug your sleeve and ask about tomorrow. You want to say it will be okay, but the words stick in your throat because you cannot promise what you do not control.

The fear rises—not just for them, but because you feel like a fraud pretending to hold the sky. Yet the light does not require you to be the answer.

Jesus stood before a storm he was about to walk into and told his friends not to let their hearts be troubled. He did not give them a map.

He gave them his presence. You are not the shelter; you are simply the branch that holds your child close while the true Vine does the holding.

The light shines through your honesty, not your performance. Put the mask down.

They do not need you to know the future; they just need you to be here now.