Running Toward the Brokenness Before Cleanup

The sun is up, but the house is still holding its breath from the night before. You are watching someone you love disappear into a fog that doesn't lift with the dawn.

It feels like loving a ghost who is still walking around the kitchen. You wonder if your care is just enabling the slow fade.

But listen — the light does not wait for the fog to clear before it shines. It shines into the mess.

There was a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off, still covered in the filth of the pig pen. Before the apology, before the cleanup — he ran.

He did not wait for the change. He ran to meet the brokenness.

Your love is that running. It is not the cure.

You cannot fix this. But your steady, tired presence is the proof that they are not forgotten.

The light is already inside them, buried under the noise, waiting for the moment the fog thins. Just stay.

The morning is here, and so are you.