When God Feels Silent: What I Learned in the Waiting

I used to believe that when God was silent, He was distant. That His lack of response was a kind of rejection. I thought if my prayers weren’t answered quickly, I must have done something wrong—prayed the wrong way, believed too little, sinned too much.

But I’ve come to understand something deeply comforting and yet profoundly difficult:

God’s silence is not always His absence. Sometimes, it’s His preparation.

There was a season in my life when I was waiting on God for something big.

I had fasted. I had prayed. I had cried into my pillow more nights than I’d like to admit. I had poured my heart out in journals, in worship, in whispered prayers between bus stops. And still—nothing. No confirmation. No open door. No yes. Not even a no. Just… silence.

It’s one thing to wait. It’s another to wait and hear nothing.

The silence started to mess with my mind. I began questioning everything. Maybe I heard Him wrong. Maybe I wasn’t worthy. Maybe I wasn’t chosen after all.

But one day, I stumbled across a scripture that shifted something in me.

“The LORD is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.”

— Lamentations 3:25–26 (ESV)

Wait quietly. Not anxiously. Not desperately. Quietly.

It stopped me in my tracks.

I began reading about people in the Bible who experienced God’s silence. Job, who lost everything and got no explanation for chapters on end. David, who cried out “How long, O Lord?” more than once. Even Jesus, who in His most human moment on the cross, cried:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

— Matthew 27:46 (NIV)

Even the Son of God felt the weight of silence.

But the silence did not mean separation. The silence was part of the story.

I remembered the story of Lazarus. Mary and Martha sent for Jesus when Lazarus was sick. They expected Him to come immediately. But He didn’t.

Jesus waited.

And by the time He showed up, Lazarus was already dead.

To them, it looked like failure. It looked like Jesus had ignored them.

But then Jesus said:

“Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”

— John 11:40 (NIV)

And then He did the unthinkable—He raised Lazarus from the dead.

God was not being late. He was setting the stage for a bigger miracle.

That changed the way I viewed my own waiting.

What if the delay wasn’t punishment—but preparation?

What if God was building something bigger, deeper, and stronger inside of me?

What if I wasn’t being forgotten, but being formed?

I started using the silence differently. Instead of letting it drive me into panic, I let it push me into prayer. Into praise. Into presence.

No, I didn’t always feel Him. But I chose to trust that He was there.

Because faith is not about always feeling God—it’s about trusting that He’s working even when you don’t hear a sound.

Eventually, things did shift.

The breakthrough came. Slowly at first. Then suddenly. Doors began to open. Clarity replaced confusion. Peace returned.

But something in me had changed.

I no longer measured God’s love by how fast He answered. I stopped needing constant signs to know I was seen. I learned how to sit in silence and still believe I was loved.

So if you’re in a waiting season, if heaven feels quiet, if you’ve been crying into the dark and wondering if God still hears you—I wrote this for you.

He does.

He sees you. He loves you. He has not forgotten you.

His silence is not the end of your story. It might just be the pause before the resurrection.

“Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him.”

— Psalm 37:7 (NIV)

Hold on, dear soul.

Your silence has purpose. And your breakthrough is closer than you think.