The Light Runs Toward The Mess

The middle of the day is when the mask feels heaviest, and the fear whispers that your very presence is a burden too great for anyone to carry. You brace yourself for the moment they will finally see the weight of you and turn away.

But there is a light inside you that does not push love off—it pulls it closer. The Father saw his son coming home from a long way off, while he was still covered in the filth of the pig pen, and he ran.

He did not wait for the apology. He did not wait for the cleanup.

He ran to meet the mess. Your presence is not a reason for them to leave; it is the very reason the light runs toward you.

You are not too much for the love that holds the world together.