A Silent Season

Have you ever prayed and searched for answers for weeks, months, or even years—without feeling like you’re being heard?

I've walked with Christ since I was young, and there have been seasons when His guidance felt unmistakable. I didn’t hear an audible voice, but I knew the direction was from Him.

Then, around the time COVID hit, my life began unraveling on many levels. Changes came fast—losses I didn’t see coming, relationships under strain, people I loved moving away, and a growing sense that I had no control over what was happening. It became a season of earnestly praying and seeking God’s will… and feeling like He was quiet.

My faith has remained steady, but I’ll be honest: I’ve also been angry. That was new for me. A couple of years into this silent season, I prayed a rage-filled, tearful prayer and finally said what I didn’t want to admit: “Lord, I know You hear me. Why won’t You answer? Why won’t You help?”

If you’ve ever prayed like that, you’re not alone—and you’re not disqualified.

I recently read a quote by George MacDonald that impacted my soul and I thought it was worth sharing.

"Trusting even when it appears you have been forsaken; praying when it seems your words are simply entering a vast expanse where no one hears and no voice answers; believing that God's love is complete and that He is aware of your circumstances, even when your world seems to grind on as if setting its own direction and not caring for life or moving one inch in response to your petitions; desiring only what God's hands have planned for you; waiting patiently while seemingly starving to death, with your only fear being that your faith might fail - 'this is the victory that has overcome the world'; this is genuine faith indeed."

When God Feels Silent

When darkness is screaming that God has abandoned you, listen to the calm yet powerful voice of Jesus saying, "I will never leave you". -author unknown

Scripture doesn’t pretend God’s people never experience silence. David wrote, “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” (Psalm 13:1, NIV). That question isn’t rebellion—it’s grief speaking.

Silent seasons often show up in ordinary, painful places:

Loss and grief: a death, a diagnosis, a friendship that fades.

Change you didn’t choose: retirement, moving, financial strain, family shifts.

Relational upheaval: marriage tension, adult children pulling away, estrangement.

Identity changes: realizing you feel invisible, unsure where you fit now.

Sometimes the silence isn’t the absence of God—it’s the absence of the kind of answer we expected.

What I’m Learning in the Quiet

I used to think faith meant staying calm and “getting it right.” But the longer I’ve lived, the more I’ve learned that faith is often simply staying—staying honest, staying present, staying willing.

God invites that kind of honesty. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18, NIV). Close doesn’t always feel loud. Sometimes it feels like breath—quiet, steady, sustaining.

And while I don’t love the refining process, I can’t deny what it produces. “Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope” (Romans 5:3–4, NIV). Hope doesn’t always arrive as a sudden breakthrough. Sometimes it arrives as the strength to get through one more day. It's almost been a daily mantra for me through this season to just get through this day, this hour, this minute, and then move on to the next.

A Few Gentle Examples (maybe you’ll recognize yourself)

When grief changes your routines: You still set the table for two out of habit, then remember. In that moment, a simple prayer—“God, be near”—is enough.

When relationships shift: You replay conversations, wondering what you did wrong. Silence from people can make God’s silence feel even heavier.

When life feels out of control: You do the “right things”—pray, read, show up—and still feel stuck. That doesn’t mean you’re failing. It may mean you’re being held.

When you’re angry with God: You don’t have to pretend. He can handle your tears and your questions. He already knows.

What to Hold Onto When You Can’t Hear Him

One of the most comforting promises I return to is this: “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged” (Deuteronomy 31:8, NIV).

And when I don’t know what to pray, I remember: “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness… the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans” (Romans 8:26, NIV). Even when I can’t form the words, God is not confused by my silence. Many times in my life I have only said, "God, please help me!" I know that He knows what I need and what my heart is holding.

If You’re in a Silent Season Right Now

Maybe you’re waiting for clarity. Maybe you’re waiting for relief. Maybe you’re waiting for someone you love to come back, or for your heart to feel steady again.

I can’t promise when the silence will lift. But I can promise this: silence is not abandonment.

"Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10, NIV) isn’t a command to shut down your feelings—it’s an invitation to rest your weight on who He is when you can’t understand what He’s doing.

I've always loved the quote by C.S. Lewis saying, "I believe in Christ, like I believe in the sun—not because I can see it, but because by it I can see everything else."