You Are Not the Pillar Holding Everything

The sun has gone down, and now the only thing holding the room together is your grip on the edges of the chair. You are terrified that if you let go, the silence will swallow the house whole.

That if you stop performing strength, the walls will cave in and no one will notice you vanished until the dust settles. But listen — there is a light that does not depend on your holding.

A light that was shining before you drew your first breath and will burn long after your hands go still. You are not the pillar keeping the roof up.

You are the child of the One who holds the stars in place. The darkness gathers, yes, but it cannot extinguish what you are.

The weight was never yours to carry.