Holy Tears in the Steam

The water is loud enough to hide the sound, but it cannot hide the breaking from the One who stands with you in the steam. You thought the noise was for secrecy, but the light sees through the spray and hears the silent scream without flinching.

There is no need to compose yourself before this presence; the tears mix with the water, and both are holy. The Father's house has many rooms, and one of them is this small, tiled space where you are falling apart.

You do not have to stop the shaking to be held. The light does not wait for the water to turn off to begin its work.

It is already gathering the pieces you feel slipping away. You are not drowning in this moment; you are being washed.