When you have been conditioned by fear and loss, silence is unwelcomed.

When silence has been a weapon, a punishment, it is unsettling.

When you’ve invested all of you and it still didn’t help, silence feels like rejection or denial.

It makes you panic, drives you to busyness.

And doubt and insecurity are with you often.

Silence makes you accept less.

That was my experience for years. Still was until 20 months ago.

I enjoy my company, but I disliked silence.

I am refreshed in quietness, but I could not stand silence.

I hear God clearer when I linger in the quiet place, but silence made me restless.

I craved and feared the silent moments.

Silence made me stay or return to where I knew I wasn’t loved, seen, or valued.

Accepting less for myself.

Until I found myself alone with God. Without a phone, no connectivity, no car. Away from the convenience of living in the centre of the city. Suddenly, all I had were unpredictable periods of unwelcomed quietness.

Away from distractions, hidden things were exposed. Abandonment/rejection, loneliness, overlooked, insignificant, loss of control.

It wasn’t the silence I disliked, but what I felt when alone with it.

Finally, in what seemed like the darkest of places, I started grappling with it.

The first time I confronted abandonment, I slipped to the floor of a hotel room, as the pain gripped my throat. I closed my journal and told God I was not ready. But the pain didn’t stop.

The thoughts came in waves.

You remember? He gave you the silent treatment again after the last disagreement, so you stopped asking for what you need and kept the peace. Lonely, but at least you’re not alone.

You achieved something spectacular and instead of celebrating you; they told you about someone else. Why do want to stand out anyway?

How about when you finally trusted God and stepped out in faith…

We have all been there. The further they moved from the familiar torment of their captivity, the more unsettling the peace in the wilderness. Every time it seemed God was silent about their safety or provision, they complained or went back to what they once knew.

To them, God’s silence seemed like He had abandoned them. Things ahead looked foggy.

It looked like it did when they were slaves, but now they didn’t even have the little they received from their masters.

They were in a different place, yet to them, the silence sounded the same. So they did what was done in Egypt, and built an idol with their resources.

A generation had to die before their nation could get to their promised land. Old mindsets, doubt-filled beliefs, and contrary behaviours. A whole new generation was born — still in the wilderness. Faith-filled belief and congruent behaviour.

Somewhere in the middle of my nowhere, I had to choose. To trust God or continue doubting who He is. Maybe it came from the desire to no longer tip-toe through my life or be chained to someone else’s approval.

I decided the things that scared me had to go. And I finally trusted God with more of my silent moments as I moved away from unhealthy practices.

And little-by-little, a healthier mindset, correct believing and congruent behaviour emerged.

Silence now brings a moment to not only be vulnerable before God, but also to take courageous steps.

It is also a moment to remember that He never leaves.

And because of who He is, God’s silence cannot be His absence.

It is not abandonment.

It is not manipulation.

It is not neglect.

God is present even in the silence.

Even as I went through a period of uncoupling, silence only exposed what and whom I trusted for provision, protection, and direction. Also, what I wrongfully allowed to shape my identity, influence my mindset and therefore my behaviour.

Now, when I come across silence, I worship. It is where I surrender my plans to God again and trust Him to establish my thoughts and direct my actions.

In the still moments between leaving what I once knew and where God is taking me; I’m learning an unfamiliar rhythm.

Submit and worship, submit and worship, submit and worship, then take a step forward. A type of going-around-the-wall-of-Jericho.

Submit my fears to God, worship and advance.

And as I learn to read it correctly, I am no longer tormented by silence, but am refreshed and strengthened by God’s presence.

Learning to progress and gain clarity in that silence.

Not backtracking because the silence got uncomfortable and things ahead looked foggy.

Or moving through life quietly because the praises didn’t come.

Or going back because it got lonely.

Sure, the silence still comes, but God is still here.

Listen. Even when what you left seemed like the pinnacle of your successes, that quiet space between the old and the new will make you want to run back and not face the unfamiliar. But if God has called you to something different, keep going s’hlobo.

Where you are is not the same as where you were.

And no! It is never “better the devil you know.”

Oh, Lord, may we be careful with our speech.

Friend, it is excellent with God.

It is peaceful with Jesus.

There is companionship and comfort and truth with the Holy Spirit.

The silence is not God’s absence.

Look to God, worship Him, and keep going.

And when you celebrate, because you will; remember to give Him the glory.