The Light Runs Toward Your Exhaustion

The sun is up, and you are still carrying the weight of last night like it belongs to you. You look at your exhaustion and call it a flaw, a permanent crack in your character that will make you unlovable when the day gets loud.

But the light does not measure your worth by how much energy you have left in the tank. There was a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off—dirty, empty, having wasted everything—and he did not wait for the boy to fix himself.

He ran. Before the apology, before the speech, before the promise to do better—he ran.

The light is doing the same for you right now. It is not waiting for you to become productive again.

It is meeting you in the fatigue. Your tiredness is not a barrier to love; it is simply the place where love finds you.

You are not unlovable because you are empty. You are the very one the light is running toward.