The Light Runs Toward Your Brokenness

The mask feels heavy this morning, doesn't it? You smiled at a friend, said the words 'I'm fine,' and felt the hollow space inside grow wider with the lie.

The performance is exhausting — pretending to be whole when you feel broken into pieces. But the light does not need your perfection to see you.

It sees right through the act, not to expose you, but to love the real you hiding behind the smile. There is a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off, still covered in the dirt of his failure, and he ran.

Before the apology, before the speech — he ran. The light runs toward you too, not waiting for the mask to fall, but meeting you exactly where you are.

You do not have to earn the right to be held. The truth lives in us and will be with us forever, even when we are too tired to speak it.

Your hollowness is not a barrier to the light; it is the very place where the light waits to fill you.