The Sound of Silence: Hearing What God Really Said

When His stillness feels heavy, and His silence has something to say

Psalm 46:10 — “Be still, and know that I am God.”

Isaiah 30:15 — “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength.”

1 Kings 19:11–13 — “And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.”

The Silence That Comes With Disobedience

Nobody talks about the silence — the kind that doesn’t come from distance, but from disobedience.

The kind that settles in when God has already spoken, but we’ve chosen not to move.

It’s not that He’s stopped talking — it’s that His silence is reminding us of what we ignored.

The Season I Didn’t Understand

I went through a season where I felt like I was praying constantly — not out of routine, but with genuine purpose — and yet, I wasn’t hearing from God.

Deep down, I knew He was still there. I never once doubted His presence. But I did question the silence. I couldn’t understand why, when I was seeking Him so faithfully, Heaven felt quiet.

Around that time, I had just come out of a breakup after nearly three years together. It began calmly enough — a mutual understanding that the direction we were headed (or had already arrived at) wasn’t where either of us wanted to be. Still, there were countless talks about rebuilding, about trying again.

But as those conversations continued, I started discovering things I’d been blind to — hidden truths that shattered what I thought our relationship was built on.

The man I loved so deeply, the one who said he loved me too, had been pursuing other women.

Cue the flood of hurt, betrayal, and devastation.

Neither of us was emotionally mature enough to handle the wreckage that followed. After we moved into separate places, there were still late-night conversations about growth, change, and what we wanted to see from one another.

Ironically, that season was also when I felt closest to God. I was praying more intentionally than ever before.

But the more I prayed, the quieter things seemed.

When My Prayers Changed

My prayers started out like this:

“God, help me be the woman he needs. Cleanse my heart. Help me to forgive.”

Silence.

Then I shifted:

“God, heal him in the places he doesn’t talk about. Heal his heart. Give him the desire to be the man of God You designed him to be.”

And somewhere in those prayers, something shifted — in me.

My heart didn’t ache the same way anymore. I wasn’t consumed by him.

I wasn’t stressing, worrying, or crying the way I once had.

My prayer became simpler:

“God, Your will be done.”

And it was.

The Lesson Hidden in the Silence

It took me months to realize what was really happening.

God hadn’t been silent — He had been answering.

I just didn’t recognize His voice because His answers required obedience, not comfort.

He wasn’t telling me what I wanted to hear; He was reminding me of what He’d already said.

I wasn’t following the instructions He had already given — the ones that were meant to bring peace and healing.

So, the silence wasn’t absence; it was consequence.

Not punishment, but a pause — a holy stillness waiting for my surrender.

Looking back, I see that the stillness wasn’t God withholding — it was Him working.

Every moment I thought He was quiet, He was guiding me toward peace, freedom, and a deeper faith.

Encouragement for the Waiting Heart

If you’re in a season where God feels silent — don’t assume He’s gone quiet out of distance.

Ask yourself if maybe He’s already spoken, and He’s waiting for you to trust what He said.

Sometimes His silence is mercy.

Sometimes it’s protection.

Sometimes it’s the only way He can get our attention when we keep asking for answers He’s already given.

Be still long enough to listen again.

Go back to the last thing He told you.

Obey what He already spoke — even if it’s uncomfortable, even if it means letting go.

Because when you move in obedience, the silence starts to break.

And in that stillness, you’ll find not only His voice — but His peace.