The Face Beneath Is For God

The mask feels heavy by mid-morning, a polished shield you wear so no one sees the trembling underneath. You worry that if the facade slipped, if they saw the depth of your uncertainty, they would stop running toward you and start walking away.

But there is a love that does not flee from the cracks in your armor. The Good came into your midst to the essence of every nature, in order to restore it to its root.

It did not come for the performance. It came for the person behind the smile.

You are not loved for how well you hold it together. You are loved because the light already lives inside the broken places you try to hide.

The mask is for the world. The face beneath it is for God.