Learning to Listen to Silence

I did not open my home because I believed I could fix a child.

By the time Jonah entered my life, I had already learned that some wounds cannot be rushed toward healing. Years of loss had taught me that grief follows its own timetable, and that forcing another person to move faster rarely brings peace.

When I met Jonah, he was nine years old.

He hardly spoke.

Many people saw only the silence.

I saw a child who had learned to protect himself.

There is a difference.

A Child Who Watched Before He Trusted Continue Reading ⬇️