The Crack Where Love Gets In

This hour strips the paint from the walls and leaves you naked with the one thing you cannot say: that you are tired. You are terrified that if you admit how exhausted you are, the people who claim to love you will lose respect for you and walk away. So you hold your breath. You hold the weight. You pretend the shaking isn't happening.

But listen — the light does not respect the mask. It respects the truth. There is a love that does not need you to be strong to stay in the room. In the deep dark, the Father's house is not a place of performance. It is a place where the weary are not judged, but held. You do not have to earn your right to rest.

The light inside you is not dimmed by your fatigue. It is the very thing that holds you when your own strength gives out. You are not too broken to be loved. You are the one being sought in this silence.

The fear says: if they see the crack, they will leave. The truth says: the crack is where the light gets out, and where the real love gets in.

You do not have to carry the world to be worthy of the morning.