Holy Ground Behind Dry Eyes

The mask is heavy this morning, isn't it? You walk through the day with a face that looks okay, while inside you feel nothing at all.

The world is burning, people are hurting, and you sit at your desk unable to summon a single tear. You think this numbness makes you cruel.

But the light does not demand your performance of grief. It sees the dry eyes behind the smile and calls them holy ground.

There was a woman who wept until she had no tears left, wiping a stranger's feet with her hair because she had nothing else to give. He did not ask her to cry more.

He said her faith had saved her. Your inability to weep is not a failure of love.

It is the armor you wore to survive the night. The light is not waiting for your breakdown.

It is already sitting with you in the silence of your dry heart.