The Embrace Comes Before The Explanation

The sun is up, but you are still holding your breath, convinced that if you finally speak, the sound of your own chaos will shatter the peace of everyone you love. You have made your silence a fortress, believing it is the only wall strong enough to keep the storm inside.

But the light does not ask you to be quiet to be safe. It asks you to be real.

There is a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off, covered in the mess of his own making, and he did not wait for the apology to finish before he ran to meet him. The embrace came before the explanation.

The running happened while the shame was still on the son's lips. Your silence is not protecting them.

It is only isolating you. The light is already in the room, and it is not afraid of your noise.

It is not afraid of your storm. You do not have to clean yourself up before you come out.

The dawn does not wait for you to be perfect to break. It breaks because it is morning.

And in this new light, you are not a danger to be contained. You are a child to be held.