The Quiet Season of Faith

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written here.
Not because God hasn’t been good, and not because life hasn’t given me things worth sharing, but because my heart has been moving through this weird in-between space - not fully disconnected, not fully on fire - like I’m walking with God but the volume is turned way down.

And I didn’t know how to write from that place.

Recently, though, something happened. A coworker blessed me in a way that felt too perfectly timed to ignore. Not over-the-top, not dramatic, just a small, steady reminder that God still knows exactly where I am.

And I found myself thinking, “Okay, God. I see what You did there.”
But right after that, another thought whispered, “So why don’t I feel You like I used to?”

Because if I'm being honest here — the kind of honest I save for late-night prayers and this little corner of the internet — I haven’t felt God as strongly lately. Not in the “move-me-to-my-knees” way. Not in the “I wake up glowing with peace” way.

Instead, it’s been quieter.
Subtle.
Almost like standing in a room where the lights are dimmed — not gone, just softer.

But even in that quiet, something unexpected keeps happening:
People keep reaching out to me about my faith.

I’ve had people tell me they feel drawn to me because of how I talk about God.
I’ve had messages from people asking how I stay grounded.
I’ve had strangers tell me they see something in me — a steadiness, a peace, a light.

And every time someone says that, my first instinct is to look over my shoulder like,
“Who, me?”
Because lately I’ve felt anything but steady.

Honestly?
Sometimes it makes me feel like a fraud.

How can people see God in me when I’m over here trying to figure out why I can’t hear Him the way I want to? How can I be the one people come to for faith when I’m wrestling with feeling far away?

But here’s the thing I’m slowly — stubbornly — learning:

We don’t have to feel God for Him to be close.

Scripture tells me this over and over in ways I forget until I read them again:

When my heart feels tired or disconnected,
Psalm 73:26 whispers:
“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
Not my feelings - God is my strength. God is my portion. God is enough even when I don’t feel enough.

When I wonder why it feels so hard to sense Him,
Jeremiah 29:13 reminds me:
“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”
Not with a perfect heart. Not with a confident heart. Just… a heart that seeks.

And when I feel like I’m wandering through a foggy season where directions aren’t loud or clear,
Isaiah 30:21 promises:
“Whether you turn to the right or to the left, you will hear a voice behind you saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’”
Even if the whisper is soft — it’s still a whisper.

Even when I feel a little spiritually hollow,
Psalm 34:18 reminds me of what’s always been true:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.”
Not far.
Not disappointed.
Close.

And maybe that’s why people feel drawn to my faith even when I don’t feel spiritually loud or impressive. Maybe they’re not seeing confidence - maybe they’re seeing hunger. Maybe they’re seeing a woman who keeps seeking God even when she feels like she’s in the quiet middle of a long stretch of road.

Maybe people don't need me to feel Him loudly.
Maybe they just need to see me keep walking toward Him anyway.

Because if God was relying on our emotions to work in us, none of us would ever be ready. Our feelings are fragile. They come and go. They shift with sleep and stress and how long it’s been since we drank a glass of water. But God — He is steady.
And sometimes the seasons where we feel least connected are the seasons He’s doing quiet construction in the background.

Not gone.
Just soft.
Just close enough to rebuild something inside us without the noise.

Lately, I’ve been praying that God shows me what He’s trying to teach me in this quieter season. That He helps me trust the whisper as much as the shout. That He reminds me that draw near to God and He will draw near to you (James 4:8) applies even on days when my drawing-near looks like one sentence whispered between exhaustion and bedtime.

So if you’re in a similar place — if God feels quieter, if you feel a little spiritually out of breath, if people see faith in you that you can’t always feel - you’re not alone.

You’re not a fraud.
You’re just human.
And God is still moving.

A Prayer for the Quiet Seasons

Lord,
Meet me in the places where I feel disconnected from You.
Teach me that Your presence is bigger than my emotions
and steadier than my doubts.
Thank You for the people You’ve placed in my life
to remind me You are still working, still speaking, still loving.
Soften my heart to hear Your whisper again.
Help me trust You even when Your voice feels quiet.
And let my life reflect Your goodness
even in the seasons when I feel small.
Amen.