Sacred Ground in Your Vulnerability

The middle of the day is when the mask feels heaviest, especially when your own body has become a source of terror. To need help with the most private functions is to feel stripped of every dignity you have ever earned.

You fear the eyes that might see you broken, the hands that must assist where you once stood alone. But there is a love that does not flinch at the mess of being human.

It does not look away in disgust; it kneels. It wraps a towel around its waist and washes the dirt from feet that have walked too far.

This light is not afraid of your vulnerability. It is not repelled by your need.

It sees the shame you carry and calls it sacred ground. The help you receive is not a defeat; it is the moment the light finally gets close enough to hold you.