Known Before You Perform

The morning light is unforgiving. It exposes the mask you wear to make yourself useful, the performance you maintain so you won't be discarded.

You move through the day terrified that if you stop producing, if you stop being needed, you will be left behind. But there is a voice that cuts through the noise of your labor.

It says: I know my sheep, and my sheep know me. Not 'I know what you do for me.' Not 'I know how useful you are.' It knows you.

The shepherd does not value the sheep for its wool or its milk, but simply because it belongs to him. Your worth is not a wage you earn by working.

It is a fact that exists before you lift a finger. The light sees the person behind the performance, and it calls you by name.