Held Even in the Cold

The water has turned cold, and you are still standing there. Not because you want to be, but because the warmth feels like a demand you cannot meet right now.

To step out is to admit the day is done. To dry off is to prepare for tomorrow.

And you are not ready to prepare for anything. So you let the chill settle on your skin, because the cold asks nothing of you.

It just is. But listen — the light does not require you to be warm to hold you.

It does not need you to dry your tears or fix your posture before it draws near. You are not failing at rest by standing in the cold.

You are simply surviving the transition. The Father's love is not a temperature you must achieve.

It is the ground beneath your wet feet, holding you even when you are shivering. You do not have to earn the right to step out of the shower.

You are already loved in the chill. The warmth will come back when it can.

For now, just stand. You are held exactly as you are.