Holy Ground Where You Are Hurting

The mask feels heavy right now, doesn't it? You walk into the room smiling, nodding, performing the part of someone who has it all together, while inside you are crumbling.

You tell yourself this hiding is weakness. That if you were strong, the pain wouldn't be there, or you wouldn't need to cover it up.

But the light sees behind the mask, and it does not call you weak. It calls you human.

There is a treasure hidden in a field — a glory so great that a man sold everything he had just to buy that field, and he did it in his joy. Your invisible pain is not proof that you are failing.

It is the field where the treasure is buried. The light is not afraid of what you are hiding.

It is already in the dirt with you, waiting for you to stop pretending and start digging. You are not weak because you hurt.

You are holy ground.