The Pride of Pretending You Are Not Bleeding

The mask is heavy by mid-morning. It feels like strength to carry it alone, to silence the plea for help because you believe you should be able to handle this without burdening anyone.

But that silence is not humility. It is pride wearing a disguise.

It whispers that you are too self-sufficient to need a hand, that asking is a failure of your own strength. Yet the light does not wait for you to prove your independence.

In the house where everyone was performing, a man was lowered through the roof by friends who refused to accept the closed door. Jesus did not praise the man's ability to endure paralysis.

He saw their faith. The ones who carried him.

The ones who said: I cannot do this alone. The light is not impressed by your solitary endurance.

It is drawn to the honest admission that you need help. There is no shame in being carried.

The pride is in pretending you aren't bleeding.