The Light Does Not Keep A Ledger

The sun is up. The night is over.

And now, someone has been kind to you. Maybe they made you coffee.

Maybe they sent a text saying they're thinking of you. And instead of feeling warm, you feel heavy.

You feel like a debt you cannot repay. You feel like a burden the moment you are loved.

But listen — the light does not keep a ledger. It rose this morning without asking the earth if it deserved the warmth.

It just came. There was a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off.

He did not wait for the apology. He did not calculate the cost of the robe he was about to put on him.

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

The light is running toward you right now. It does not see a burden.

It sees a child. You are not a weight to be carried.

You are the reason the light woke up today.