Silence

It’s been a while. Since June 5th, the silence on this blog has been heavy, not because I stopped thinking about writing, but because I was experiencing a season of spiritual silence in my Bible reading. It’s a strange, unsettling feeling to open the God’s Word and find that the usual warmth, light, and immediate application feels… well, distant. In these moments, my instinct is to panic. I wonder, “Where did the intimacy go?” “Did I quench the Spirit?” “Is God displeased?”

But as I’ve sat in this silence, I’ve been reminded that the God’s Word does not shy away from the silence. It is full of men and women who learned that silence is not necessarily the absence of God, but often the preparation for a deeper foundation.

Look at Job. In his deepest agony, he cries out, “I cry out to you, God, but you do not answer; I stand up, but you merely look at me”. Job’s entire narrative is a testament to the heavy silence of God, yet at the end of that silence, he confesses, “My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you”. The silence was not a punishment… it was the hardships in which his relationship with God matured from secondhand knowledge to personal encounter.

Then there is Elijah. After his greatest victory, he found himself not in the thunder or the fire, but in the gentle whisper. Sometimes the silence is so heavy because God has moved away from the loud, demonstrative ways we are used to meeting Him, inviting us instead into a still, small voice that requires us to be much closer to hear.

Even the David, who wrote so much of the rhythm of worship, often felt the ache of a silent God. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer”.

If even the authors of Scripture experienced periods where God seemed to withdraw His voice, perhaps my current spiritual silence isn’t a failure at all. Perhaps it is a invitation.

When the pages of your Bible feel cold, it is easy to assume you’ve lost your way. But the writer of Hebrews reminds us that the Word of God is living and active, whether we feel it living at the time or not. Faith is not a feeling… “it is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen”.

I’m learning that the silence is not a void to be filled with my own anxious thoughts, but a space to be occupied by His presence. The silence is where I learn that I don’t follow God for the thrill of the insight or the emotional high, I follow Him because He is God.

Folks, if you are currently walking through a season where your Bible reading feels dry and the air feels thick with silence, take heart. You are in good company. Keep showing up to the page. Keep showing up to the prayer closet.

As it says in Lamentations 3:25, “The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him.”

I’m starting to write again, not because the silence is completely gone, but because I’ve realized that God is still there even when He’s not shouting. Especially, when He is whispering