When God Seems Silent: Trusting in Seasons of Waiting

There’s a kind of silence that can shake your faith to its core.

Not the silence of a quiet morning or a sleeping child.

The silence I’m talking about is the kind that settles in after you’ve poured your heart out in prayer, and all you hear back is... nothing.

You fasted.

You prayed.

You believed.

But the doors did not open. The healing did not come. The clarity did not arrive.

And you begin to wonder: Is God still listening?

I have lived through that kind of silence.

It’s not a silence you can explain to others easily. People say things like “Just trust God” or “Everything happens for a reason” and while those phrases may be true, they often don’t comfort. Because what you’re really looking for is evidence that God has not abandoned you.

What the Silence Isn’t

Let me start by telling you what God’s silence is not:

It is not punishment.

It is not rejection.

It is not absence.

In the Bible, there were many moments of divine silence.

Think of Job: a righteous man who lost everything and could not understand why.

Think of Joseph: sold into slavery and falsely imprisoned for years.

Think of Jesus on the cross, crying out “My God, why have you forsaken me?”

Even the Son of God felt that silence.

But here is what the silence teaches us: God’s silence is not the end of His story.

What Happens in the Waiting.

The season of waiting is where your faith grows its roots.

When there is no sign and no sound, you must choose to believe based on who God is, not what you feel. That is the heart of true trust.

In the waiting, God is refining you.

He is teaching you to walk by faith, not by sight.

He is removing your dependence on outcomes and anchoring your heart in His presence.

And sometimes, the silence is His strategy.

God may be:

Protecting you from something you cannot yet see

Preparing you for something greater than what you asked

Positioning others and resources for your breakthrough

Preserving you from premature exposure

What You Can Do in the Silence

1. Worship anyway: Praise Him not for what He’s done, but for who He is.

2. Write it down: Journal your prayers and emotions. Be honest. God can handle your honesty.

3. Stay in community: Isolation magnifies doubt. Stay connected to people of faith.

4. Remember past faithfulness: If He has come through before, He can do it again.

5. Be still: Sometimes we talk so much we don’t give God room to whisper.

I remember one particular season where I cried every night, asking God to save me from what seemed like a dark pit that I'd found myself. I can tell you now that He brought me out. But it wasn't instant. He sent his word in season. One word after another. Eventually, there was clarity. There were answers. There was peace. A small shift in my spirit. A new door opening at just the right time.

God was never absent, even though it seemed that way. He was always there.

A Closing Word.

If you are in a season where heaven feels quiet, please hear this:

You are not forgotten. You are not forsaken. You are not alone.

Even when you cannot trace His hand, you can trust His heart.

Scripture Reflection:

Isaiah 64:4

“For since the beginning of the world no one has heard, no ear perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him.”

He is acting. He is working. He is faithful.

Wait with trust. You will see His goodness again.

Things I Wish I Knew Before Becoming a Mom

Motherhood is the most beautiful, most stretching, and most sanctifying journey I have ever been on.

Before I became a mom, I had a long list of things I thought I understood.
I had read books. I had seen the posts. I had helped with other people’s kids. I practically helped raise my siblings.
But nothing prepared me for what it would mean to carry a life, raise a child, and sacrifice myself daily in love.

There is a sacredness to motherhood that no one can fully prepare you for.
But if I could sit with the version of me that was expecting her first child, these are the truths I would whisper:

1. You Will Never Be Fully Prepared

You can buy all the gadgets.
You can decorate the nursery.
You can make your plans and routines.
But children have a way of rewriting every script.

And that is okay. Because what your child needs most is not your perfection.
They need your presence. Your love. Your availability.

You will make mistakes. You will forget things. You will lose your patience.
That does not make you a bad mother.
It makes you human. And grace is available for every single part of you.

Motherhood teaches you that control is an illusion. And in surrender, you find strength.

2. Your Child is Not a Project

When I first became a mother, I approached parenting like an assignment:
Train up the child. Correct the behavior. Shape the future.

All that is important. But what I’ve learned is this:
My child is not a problem to solve.
They are a person to know.
God did not call me to mold my child into my image. He called me to steward the image of God within them.

Discipline is important, but relationship is foundational.
The connection you build with your child becomes the soil in which correction can take root.

Your child is not your competition. They are not your reflection.
They are a soul with a calling that will unfold uniquely. Sometimes messily, under your care.

3. It’s Okay to Need Help

One of the biggest lies mothers believe is that asking for help is weakness.
It’s not.

Motherhood was never meant to be a solo mission.
Even Mary, the mother of Jesus, had help from Joseph, from Elizabeth, from the community God surrounded her with.

There will be days when the house is a mess.
When you’ve cried in the bathroom.
When you’ve fed the kids cereal for dinner again.
Those days don’t mean you’re failing.
They mean you’re showing up. And sometimes, showing up looks like asking someone to come over. Or ordering food instead of cooking. Or taking a nap instead of folding laundry.

Community is a gift. Use it.

4. You Will Rediscover Yourself

When I became a mother, parts of me felt like they disappeared.
The woman I used to be; confident, creative, full of vision, seemed to dissolve into the daily tasks of diapers and dishes.

But slowly, something beautiful happened.
I found pieces of myself I never knew existed.

I became stronger.
I learned to advocate.
I loved deeper.
I discovered that my voice had more authority, not less, because of motherhood.

You are not lost, mama.
You are being transformed.
You are being rebuilt from the inside out. And what God is doing in you through this season will serve not just your child, but your calling.

A Prayer for Moms in the Thick of It

Lord,
For the mom who feels overwhelmed, give her rest.
For the mom who feels invisible, remind her that You see.
For the mom who feels like she’s not doing enough, whisper grace over her efforts.
And for the mom who feels stretched, strengthen her with joy.
In Jesus' name, Amen.

Motherhood will change you. That is part of its sacred beauty.

It breaks you open so that love can be poured out.
It empties you so that God can fill you.
It humbles you so that your children can rise.

And on the hard days, when the tears fall and the house is loud and your patience runs thin, remember this: You are doing holy work.

Even when it’s messy. Especially when it’s messy.

You are not just raising a child.
You are raising a future. And you’re doing it with God beside you.