Yeah… You

Let me talk to you for a second —

not the version you show the world,

but the one that exhales when nobody’s looking.

You.

Yeah — you.

The one carrying more than you admit,

holding things you never name,

trying to appear steady

while something quiet shakes underneath.

Listen…

I’m not here to judge your breaking.

I’m here to remind you

what breaking made possible.

Because there’s a point —

a sacred one —

where the weight stops being punishment

and becomes instruction.

Where the pressure isn’t meant to crush you,

but to call out the strength

you keep forgetting is yours.

And I know you’ve prayed in whispers

you don’t repeat.

I know you’ve had nights

when even God felt far away —

but hear me:

distance isn’t absence.

Sometimes He steps back

just enough for you to step forward.

So breathe.

Not because it’s easy,

but because you’re still here

to try again.

And whatever you think disqualified you,

didn’t.

Grace doesn’t work like that.

It meets you in the place you broke,

and somehow…

builds from there.

Now stand up —

not to prove anything,

but to remember

who you were before the doubt started talking.

You’re not done.

You’re becoming.