Silence and Solitude
I’m a middle school Language Arts teacher. Go ahead and say it, “Oh gosh, that sounds rough.” I get it all the time. And to be honest it isn’t that bad. Preteens are usually funny and interesting. Most of my classes listen and do what they need to do, but then there are the few that make my brain go numb.
There is always that class that, no matter what I do, can’t stop talking. The array of cuss words bounces around the room giving me a headache that grows and grows over the length of the period. Have you ever tried to hear someone whisper in an environment like that?
The sweetest student comes up to me for help and her words are lost to the tumult. I couldn’t hear her even if I tried.
Sometimes the entirety of our lives feel this way.
In 1 Kings 19:12, Elijah stood on the mountain waiting to hear the voice of God. Wind tore through the rocks. Was the Lord in the violent wind? No. There came an earthquake that shook the mountain. Was the Lord in the earthquake? No. There came a fire. Was the Lord in the fire? No. The Lord was not in the wind, nor the earthquake, nor the fire. After the chaos came the sound of a gentle whisper.
There is a question that rings in my ears. What do I do if I don’t know what the next season of my life holds? What if I don’t know what my next step is? What if I can’t hear the answer?
I know I’m not the only one that thinks this. Many of you reading this are thinking, “I can’t hear the answer. I can’t hear God.”
And so you’re stuck. The waiting is even worse because no matter how much you strain your ears to hear, it feels silent. But maybe it’s not the silence that’s the problem, maybe it’s the noise that we allow to fill our lives.
Like with Elijah, God’s voice is quiet—not absent.
We busy ourselves with the next thing. Our jobs become the sole focus of everything we do — just trying to get ahead. Who has the best car? The best house? Our phones become our partners and friends. We more quickly talk to ChatGPT or the most current version of AI over our spouse. We drive from work to our kid’s baseball game to church to home. Constantly on the go.
We think to ourselves, What could we possibly remove?
But the hurry is slowly killing our spiritual lives. We don’t stop long enough to breathe much less pray or spend time with God.
God is like the sweet student who is trying to come up to you and ask you a question or tell you something important. Can you hear Him? It might be too loud.
So then insert silence and solitude.
“Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).
It’s time to take that time to slow down and wait to hear the voice of God. Be still. Create space. Allow yourself just to sit and listen for the next step, the answer, the next season.
Jesus Himself often went out to a place alone to pray (Luke 5:16). If the Son of God stepped away from the noise to commune with His Father, perhaps we should as well.
When we follow Him, stick close to Him, pause and listen for Him, we will know His voice. John 10:27 says, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.”
In John Mark Comer’s book The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry he says, “In our ears we sense His voice cut through the cacophony of all the other voices, which slowly fade to the deafening roar of silence. In that silence, we hear God speak His love over us. Speak our identities and callings into being. We get His perspective on life and our humble, good places in it” (139).
So I challenge you today. Take 5 minutes. Pause. Breathe. In your mind repeat, “Be still, and know that I am God.”
He’s speaking to you. Come away with Me. I want to speak to you. I want to reveal the mysteries to you.
