In the Boat with Jesus: Five Days of Faith, Fear, and Finding God in the Silence
Day 4: Finding God in the Sound of Silence
1 Kings 19:11–13
Up to now, we have been in the storm with St. Peter. But what happens when the wind dies down and the sea becomes calm? Peter heard the Lord's call, but he became distracted by the storm. What happens when the distractions are gone and we are left with silence? Are we still listening for God?
There is so much noise in everyday life—responsibilities, worries, decisions, news, doom-scrolling on social media, and all the other things that compete for our attention. We get so used to the noise that we don't even notice how difficult it can be to simply listen, or to seek God in the quiet.
We often look for God in the “big and loud” events, but another person in Scripture shows us that we may need to look elsewhere: the great prophet Elijah. Elijah wasn’t in a boat on the Sea of Galilee. He was alone on a mountain. His storm was not made of wind and waves, but of fear, exhaustion, disappointment, and uncertainty. And just as the disciples had to learn to recognize Jesus in the middle of their storm, Elijah had to learn to recognize God when God did not appear in the way he expected. God told Elijah to stand on the mountain because the Lord was about to pass by.
First came a great wind. Then an earthquake. Then fire. But God was not in the wind. He was not in the earthquake. God was not in the fire. And then came “a sound of sheer silence.”
It was there, in the stillness, that Elijah encountered God.
Peter was distracted by the sound of the storm. Elijah had to learn to listen beyond the sound of the storm. For Peter, the storm was so loud that he lost sight of the Lord. For Elijah, there was the noise of the fire and the earthquake, but he encountered God in the silence.
Perhaps this is why the text of Be Still My Soul speaks so deeply to me:
“Be still my soul! The waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while he dwelt below.”
The Hymn reminds us that the One who spoke to the wind and waves, who calmed the Sea of Galilee is still with us. The storms of our lives may seem to overtake everything, but they are not beyond His authority or intervention.
As a music minister, I find God most often in music. But as any composer will tell you, the pauses—the “rests”—are just as important as the notes that are sung. Without the rests, the music becomes noise.
Perhaps this tension between the storm and the silence is why Be Still, My Soul is one of my favorite hymns. It reminds me that I can be still despite what is happening in my life because God is near:
“Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side; wear patiently the cross of grief or pain.”
Peter’s storm didn’t immediately disappear. Elijah’s troubles didn’t suddenly become easier, and neither do ours. To be still is not necessarily to have a quiet or carefree life. It is to quiet our hearts just enough to remember who is with us. Like Elijah, we have to become quiet enough to recognize Him.
We look for the great sign or the unmistakable voice, but sometimes God meets us in a much quieter way—in a word of Scripture, a line of hymn text, the smile of a newborn, the trusting eyes of an infirm elder, or simply in the stillness of being alone with Him. The storms will still be there. Stillness is not the destination we reach when the storm finally stops. Stillness is something God gives us while we are still in the storm.
To Ponder:
Where is the noise in my life keeping me from hearing God? What might happen if I made room for a little more silence? Set aside five quiet minutes today. No phone, music, television or distractions. Simply sit in God’s presence and listen.
Let’s Pray:
Lord, quiet my heart so that I may recognize You. Help me listen beyond the noise and hear Your still, small voice. Remind me that You are near, even when I cannot see You. Amen.
Wishing you time for the “rests” and in the silence may you hear the voice of God
Cecilia Carroll
Advent Square Director