Weekly Devotion
March 8, 2026

Is silence merely the absence of noise?

During my training to become an American Sign Language interpreter, I was given an assignment to step, as much as possible, into the experience of a deaf person for 24 hours. We wore noise-canceling headphones, when available, and used cotton to further reduce sound, attempting to navigate a world designed for hearing while removed from it. What struck me most was not the quiet, but the noise that remained—the subtle, persistent sounds I would normally ignore, suddenly felt amplified.

Lately, I have noticed a similar unrest within my own soul. Even in moments set aside for rest, I find myself unsettled. Though my surroundings may be quiet, my mind feels anything but. As I write, the ticking of a clock, distant conversations, and the hum of a fan all compete for my attention. The external noise mirrors an internal one steady stream of distraction that makes stillness feel elusive.

It leads me to wonder how often this same noise accompanies us into our time with the Lord. When our thoughts are crowded with distractions or shaped by doubt—Am I worthy? Am I faithful enough? Is God really listening? —how much do we truly receive from what we read or pray? The quiet we seek externally can be overshadowed by the noise we carry within.

Scripture offers a gentle yet profound invitation: “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still” (Exodus 14:14). What a freeing truth—that we are not required to arrive before God perfectly ordered or spiritually polished. We are simply invited to be still. Jesus echoes this in Matthew 11:28: “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” In the midst of busy responsibilities, even within the space where I serve, I am reminded that I can pause, breathe, and rest in His presence. There is a holy nearness available in stillness.

Practicing silence has become an intentional part of my walk with the Lord. By setting aside time in prayer to be still, I create space to listen—to allow the Holy Spirit to speak. I am drawn to the image of God speaking in a gentle whisper. When Elijah stood on the mountain, he did not encounter God in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire, but in a soft whisper (1 Kings 19:9–13). This moment reveals that God’s presence is not always found in the dramatic, but often in the quiet. His voice may not compete with the noise; it invites us to step away from it. The question then becomes: are we listening closely enough to hear Him?

Yet silence is not only about listening, it also shapes how we speak. Our words carry great power; they can encourage and build up or discourage and tear down. At times, choosing silence is the wiser and more faithful response. Proverbs remind us, “Those who guard their mouths and their tongues keep themselves from calamity” (Proverbs 21:23), and “When words are many, sin is not absent, but the prudent hold their tongues” (Proverbs 10:19). Ecclesiastes 3:7 tells us there is “a time to be silent and a time to speak.” Growing in discernment—knowing when to speak and when to remain silent—is part of deepening our walk with God.

Silence is far more than the absence of sound; it is a posture of the heart. It is in silence that we become aware of both the noise within us and the gentle voice of God inviting us into rest. As we intentionally create space to be still, we learn to listen more closely, trust more deeply, and speak more wisely. May we cultivate a rhythm of silence in our lives—not as emptiness, but as sacred space—where God meets us, speaks to us, and transforms us from the inside out.


Written by
Jodi Dyck