Speaker 1: Us Studios. There is a kind of quiet that knows
Speaker 1: exactly what you have been holding. It sees the small,
Speaker 1: bright things you have been keeping, the gentle embers you
Speaker 1: have tended late at night, the slow devotions no one
Speaker 1: else has named. You are the keeper of more than
Speaker 1: you realize. Somewhere you have been guarding a flame. Maybe
Speaker 1: it is the way you speak to yourself when no
Speaker 1: one is listening. Maybe it is the way you return
Speaker 1: to the same prayer, the same breath, the same cup
Speaker 1: of tea held with both hands. Maybe it is the
Speaker 1: way you have kept loving someone, even on the days
Speaker 1: when love was hard to feel. Maybe it is the
Speaker 1: way you keep showing up day after day for the small,
Speaker 1: sacred things no one else sees. You have not always
Speaker 1: been thinked for this, but you have been faithful to it.
Speaker 1: Each tiny act of keeping has been a quiet revolution.
Speaker 1: Each time you have chosen to hold instead of drop,
Speaker 1: to tend, instead of rush, to stay with what is fragile,
Speaker 1: instead of looking away. You have been a keeper, and
Speaker 1: the world is softer because of it. Even the version
Speaker 1: of you that is tired, even the version that doubts,
Speaker 1: has been keeping something precious this whole time, So this morning,
Speaker 1: Let yourself be kept. Let the light touch your face
Speaker 1: before you reach for anything. The warmth of the mug
Speaker 1: be the only thing you multitask. Let the breath finish
Speaker 1: its own journey before you ask your body to begin
Speaker 1: the next one. There is nothing to prove this hour.
Speaker 1: There is only the privilege of being here. You do
Speaker 1: not have to keep everything today. You do not have
Speaker 1: to hold every small thing in place. Some of what
Speaker 1: you have been caring is allowed to be set down,
Speaker 1: even for a few minutes, even just here, you can
Speaker 1: let the silence hold you for a while. The keeping
Speaker 1: does not stop when you rest, it deepens. The vigil
Speaker 1: is not broken by your pause. You are not failing
Speaker 1: when you rest and falling behind when you pause. You
Speaker 1: are simply letting the keeper rest too, the way any
Speaker 1: tender gardener steps back from the soil to let the
Speaker 1: rain do its quiet work. The seeds do not need
Speaker 1: you hovering. They need you trusting. The patient dark is
Speaker 1: doing what you cannot. What you have been keeping is safe,
Speaker 1: What you have been tending is growing. What you have
Speaker 1: been guarding in the dark is already lit in ways
Speaker 1: you will not see for a little while. Your faithfulness
Speaker 1: in the in between is not invisible. It is the
Speaker 1: very thing the morning is built on. Even the smallest
Speaker 1: flame kept becomes a lantern. So be held, be unhurried,
Speaker 1: be the keeper of this one small moment, and let
Speaker 1: it be enough, Sadlene, Trust the tending be hell. You
Speaker 1: have been the one who remembers the small things, who
Speaker 1: notices the quiet ones, who keeps the door open when
Speaker 1: everyone else forgets. To day, the door is open for
Speaker 1: you too. To day you are the one being kept.
Speaker 1: So be held, be unhurried, be the keeper of this
Speaker 1: one small moment, and let it be enough, said Alene.
Speaker 1: Trust the tending be held,