The Silence Where Running Begins

The afternoon sun is bright, but it casts the longest shadows, and in this light, your silence feels like a verdict. You are convinced that the quiet means the Father has finally turned his back, that he has grown tired of waiting for you to find your way home.

But the silence you feel is not absence. It is the stillness of the one who knows you are coming.

There was a father who saw his son while he was still a long way off. He did not pace the porch, checking his watch, wondering if the boy had given up.

He was already running before the apology was formed. The light does not wait with a clenched fist.

It waits with open arms. Your silence is not rejection.

It is the space where the running begins.