Learning to Trust in the Stillness…

There are seasons in life when God feels quiet. Not absent. Not gone. Just… silent.

You pray, and the words feel like they’re drifting into the void. You ask for signs, direction, comfort—but everything around you feels still. Empty. Quiet. It’s the kind of quiet that makes your doubts louder and your fears more convincing.

And yet, it’s in this silence that I’ve slowly begun to understand something:

God’s silence doesn’t mean His absence.

Sometimes, we expect God to move the way people do—quickly, loudly, visibly. We look for burning bushes and parting seas, not the gentle nudge of grace in a still morning or the comfort of breath that reminds us we’re still here, still held.

In the silence, I’ve learned to listen differently.

Not with panic. Not with desperation. But with trust.

Like the way you sit with someone you love in a quiet room—no words, no pressure, just presence. And slowly, I began to notice things I had missed:

The strength He gave me to get out of bed.

The peace that came unexpectedly in the middle of chaos.

The song that played at just the right moment.

The verse I stumbled on that answered a prayer I couldn’t even put into words.

God’s silence isn’t punishment. It’s often preparation.

It’s a sacred invitation to trust Him—not just His words, but His heart.

So if you’re in that silent season, I hope you won’t rush it. I hope you’ll sit with it, breathe through it, and look for the small, steady ways God is still showing up. Because He is. Even in the quiet. Especially there.

Have you ever experienced a time when God felt silent? How did you respond—and what did you discover in the quiet?

Until next time,