When Words Can Wait

The room was silent, pierced only by the rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitor. A father sat beside his daughter’s bed, her body still healing from the crash. He spoke little, not for lack of words, but because no words could capture what had just happened. He chose to stay. Each hour. Each night. He listened as she grappled with the crash and the swirling questions. A nurse later remarked, “I don’t think she remembers much about that week, but she does know one thing: her dad never left her side.”

His presence did not alter her prognosis, but it achieved something equally vital: it anchored her to his love, reminding her that she was never alone.

This is the subtle strength of being present. It is not flashy or focused on solutions, but it is profoundly healing. In counseling, God invites us to maintain that same constant closeness. Our ministry often starts not with words, but with listening.

CONTINUE READING