When God Went Silent

There was a season when I thought God ghosted me.

No whisper. No confirmation. Just quiet.

I did everything right, served at church, read the Word, gave generously. But heaven felt sealed. The more I prayed, the less I heard. I kept asking, “Lord, where are You?”

Months passed. I grew bitter. I envied others’ testimonies and stopped expecting my own. Then one day, while sitting alone on a park bench, a phrase drifted into my heart soft, steady, unmistakable: “I’ve been here the whole time.”

That moment didn’t fix everything, but it shifted something. I began to notice how God spoke differently in silence. A delayed answer taught me patience. A closed door protected me from harm. The stillness became a classroom.

Now, when I can’t hear God, I remember that silence doesn’t mean absence. It often means intimacy the kind that doesn’t need words.

“Sometimes the absence of God’s voice is the presence of His work.”