Held Before The Reply Arrives

The screen is bright, but your hands are shaking. You sent the words, and now you are terrified of the reply—terrified that their answer will arrive before you are strong enough to hold it.

But listen: the light does not demand your strength. It only asks for your presence.

There is a peace that does not depend on their response, a peace that sits with you right here in the quiet. You do not have to brace yourself.

You do not have to be ready. The One who walks beside you is gentle, and he knows exactly how fragile you feel tonight.

He is not waiting for you to be strong; he is waiting to hold you while you are weak. The reply will come, or it won't—but you are already held.