Introduction: After the Return

There’s a moment that often comes after we return to God.

We’ve recognized our drifting.
We’ve turned back without shame.
We’ve rested again in the grace that was waiting for us all along.

And then… God remains quiet.

No sudden clarity.
No dramatic reassurance.
No emotional surge confirming that everything is resolved.

Just presence.
Stillness.
Ordinary days again.

And if you’re anything like me, and if we’re being honest, that’s sometimes where our trust in God is tested most.

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When Quiet Feels Unsettling

We tend to associate God’s nearness with something we can feel:

Comfort.
Peace.
A sense of being held.

I cherish times when I feel these things so clearly. But when those sensations fade, I sometimes can’t help wondering whether something has shifted—whether God has stepped back again, or whether my return to Him didn’t quite “take.”

But Scripture tells a steadier story.

God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”
Hebrews 13:5 (NIV)

God’s presence is not sustained by sensation.
And trust is not built on constant reassurance.

Often, the quiet that follows our return is not distance—it’s stability.

The Difference Between Silence and Absence

We live in a world filled with noise. Notifications, conversations, opinions, constant input.

Silence can feel uncomfortable—like something is missing.

My wife is probably laughing about this, since I unintentionally annoy her by having music playing (usually quietly) pretty much all the time. I have different playlists for different activities—I feel like life should have a soundtrack. Really it’s because I have tinnitus, so the music soothes the constant ringing in my ears, but I like the soundtrack vibe better.

So in my defense, I’ll differentiate between noise that demands your attention—like notifications on our phones—and something that provides a gentle, calming backdrop for our everyday lives—like most of the music I listen to.

But back to the plot: in our walk with God, silence is often the environment where trust matures.

Be still, and know that I am God.
Psalm 46:10 (NIV)

God speaks clearly when clarity is needed.
But He often remains quietly present when clarity would distract from trust.

The absence of new words does not mean the absence of God.
It often means He has already said enough—and is now inviting us to live from what we’ve heard.

Trusting What We Cannot Feel

Faith eventually moves beyond the need for frequent confirmation.

Not because God becomes less kind.
Not because we become more capable.
But because relationship deepens.

Think of the people you trust most. You don’t need constant reassurance of their presence or commitment. You trust them because of who they are—and because of the history you share.

I still tell my wife that I love her, but she knows I do even when I don’t say it because we’ve been married almost 33 years and in relationship for 37 years. Our love does not need constant reassurance like it did when we first fell in love.

In the same way, God’s quiet presence invites us to trust His character rather than chase His signals.

As Paul the Apostle reminded us in his second letter to the church at Corinth:

We live by faith, not by sight.
2 Corinthians 5:7 (NIV)

This kind of trust doesn’t rush.
It doesn’t demand proof.
It rests, but still grows deeper.

The Quiet as a Gift

Learning to trust the quiet reshapes how we walk with God. This is what I am journeying through right now.

I’ve stopped scanning for signs.
I’ve stopped interpreting every emotional fluctuation.
I’ve stopped assuming that movement equals growth.

Instead, I am learning to stay present.

To keep praying even when prayer feels simple.
To keep walking even when the road looks familiar.
To keep trusting even when nothing seems to be happening.

This is not passive faith.
I am finding that it is deepening my faith.

It’s the kind of trust that grows roots.

Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord…
They will be like a tree planted by the water.
Jeremiah 17:7–8 (NIV)

Roots grow quietly.
But they hold when storms come.

Staying Close Without Needing More

The quiet seasons of faith teach us something essential:

God does not need to be louder to be nearer.

His presence doesn’t rise and fall with our emotions.
His faithfulness doesn’t fluctuate with our awareness.

When we learn to trust the quiet, we discover that God has been steady all along.

And that realization frees us from striving—to experience faith not as something we manage, but as a relationship we live within.

Go Deeper

Why God Often Grows Quieter as Trust Deepens

Early in faith, God often meets us with clarity and reassurance. He speaks loudly—not because He prefers it that way, but because we need it.

As trust grows, the relationship changes.

God becomes less directive and more formative.
Less instructional and more invitational.

This doesn’t mean God is less involved.
It means He is shaping us to trust Him more.

Quiet faith is not weaker faith.
It is faith that has learned to rest.

So here’s a gentle question to sit with this week:

What if God’s quiet presence is not something to overcome, but something to receive?

Learning to trust the quiet doesn’t mean we stop listening for God’s voice.
It means we stop assuming He is absent when He chooses to be still.

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Closing Encouragement

If your walk with God feels quiet right now, don’t rush to fill the space.

Don’t assume you’re missing something.
Don’t assume you need something more.

It may simply be an invitation to trust—to live from what you already know to be true.

Same God.
Same presence.
Still near.

Even in the quiet.