The Father Ran Before You Spoke

The sun is up, and the light is touching your face whether you feel ready for it or not. You are standing in the warmth, yet your hands are clenched, waiting for the sky to fall because you believe you haven't earned the day.

There was a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off — before the apology, before the speech, before any promise to do better — the father was already running. He did not wait for the debt to be paid.

He ran to meet the shame. You are bracing for a blow that the light has already disarmed.

The love you are receiving is not a wage you worked for; it is the air you are breathing right now. Stop holding your breath waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The shoe has already fallen, and it was mercy.