The Light Loves the Face Underneath

The morning light hits the mirror and you begin the work of construction again. Layering on the smile, the competence, the version of yourself that everyone loves.

You are terrified that if you stop performing, they will finally see the emptiness behind the mask and walk away. But the light does not love the costume.

It loves the face underneath the paint. There was a moment in a garden, heavy with sorrow, where the light fell on its face in the dirt and whispered, 'My soul is overwhelmed.' It did not perform strength.

It showed the crack. And the Father did not leave.

If you bring forth what is within you—the fear, the fatigue, the raw truth—it will save you. If you keep it buried behind the smile, it will slowly destroy you.

The mask keeps them close, but only the truth can let them love you.