When God Feels Silent : Finding faith in the Waiting

March is finally here and, in South Carolina, that means we start to feel the shifting of seasons.

It’s not spring yet… but almost.
Winter isn’t over yet… but almost.

March is a month of transition — where the weather flips up and down, flowers begin to emerge but remain tight in their buds, and the world slowly wakes up from winter’s rest without fully coming alive.

Many of us know this transition space well. We’re living in a March of the soul.
​
We’ve prayed the prayers but haven’t received an answer.
We’ve submitted the job application but are still waiting for a response.
We’ve received a diagnosis and are awaiting treatment and healing to begin.
We’ve been mothering in quiet, unseen places, longing for even a small acknowledgment.

Like seeds ready to sprout from soon-to-be spring soil, we are waiting — hidden and hopeful for the season to come. But we’re stuck between the now and the not-yet.
​
For a short year of our lives, we lived in Colorado. Winter there stretched on endlessly. Looking out over the snow-covered ground, it seemed logical to believe the land was barren. What could possibly grow under all that snow after months of freezing temperatures? Turns out… a lot.

All it took was one short month for that snow to give way to some of the most lush late-spring forests and gardens I had ever seen.
​
In the in-betweens of life, it’s easy to make the same assumption about God because everything feels barren. Is He even there? Does God answer prayers? Is He punishing me? Why does God feel silent?

Like the psalmist in Psalm 13:1, we find ourselves whispering, “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?”

If this is you — and often it’s me too — you may find a friend in Elijah.
When you turn to 1 Kings 19, you’ll find Elijah running for his life from Queen Jezebel. He’s exhausted, afraid, and convinced he’s completely alone in his faith. In his despair, he cries out: “I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty… I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too” (1 Kings 19:10).

Elijah feels forgotten. Isolated. Certain that God has gone quiet. But, God responds in a surprising way.

“Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.”
Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart — but the Lord was not in the wind.
After the wind came an earthquake — but the Lord was not in the earthquake.
After the earthquake came a fire — but the Lord was not in the fire.
And after the fire came a gentle whisper (1 Kings 19:11–12).”

A whisper.

Elijah was hiding, lonely and longing for a shift in seasons. He thought he was forgotten. God not only saw and heard him — He met him in the quiet and reminded him of a truth Elijah couldn’t see: “Yet I reserve seven thousand in Israel… whose knees have not bowed down to Baal” (1 Kings 19:18).”

There was an entire army waiting. Elijah was never alone. And while he was waiting, God was whispering and working.

We live in a microwave society. We want it, we order it, and we track every movement of the package. If we feel bored, we grab our phones. If we’re hungry, we click a craving and it appears at our doorstep. We rarely have to flex our patience muscles.

So the in-betweens of life feel especially heavy. Waiting feels unnatural. Silence feels suspicious. But what if, in our seasons of waiting, God is whispering to us too?

What if, in the moments when we feel hidden — when our prayers seem to bounce off the ceiling and we’re stuck between the now and the not-yet — God is inviting us to get quiet enough to notice how He’s working beneath the surface?

If we embrace the March of our soul, we may begin to notice something surprising:
We are forming roots.
God is tending to us.
Cultivating the soil of our faith.
Strengthening us for the next active season.

He whispers in the quiet so that when life gets loud, we’ll recognize His voice.
He prepares community we cannot yet see so we’ll never truly be alone.
He works beneath the surface long before anything blooms above it.

So when you’re tempted to believe God is silent or absent, remember this:
Stay present in the wait.
Listen for God’s whisper in the quiet.
And trust that even now — you are never alone.

---

Journaling Prompt

Think about an area of your life where you feel stuck in the “now and not yet.”
Write honestly about what the waiting feels like. What emotions surface when you think about this season? Then ask yourself: Where might God be quietly working beneath the surface of my life right now, even if I can’t see it yet?

---

Reflection Questions

1. Where in your life right now does God feel silent or distant? What have you been waiting for Him to do?
2. When you look back on previous seasons of waiting in your life, can you see ways God was working behind the scenes even when you didn’t realize it at the time?
3. What might it look like for you to slow down and listen for God’s whisper this week instead of rushing past the quiet?

---

A Prayer for the Waiting

Lord,
​
Sometimes the silence feels heavy.
We pray and wonder if You hear us.
We wait and question if You are moving at all.
But Your Word reminds us that You are always present, even when we cannot see what You are doing. Just as seeds grow quietly beneath the soil, help us trust that You are working beneath the surface of our lives.
In our waiting, teach us patience.
In the quiet, help us recognize Your voice.
In our loneliness, remind us that we are never truly alone.
Give us the faith to believe that even in this in-between season, You are preparing something good.
Help us stay present, listen for Your whisper, and trust that the story You are writing is not finished yet.

Amen.