1 Kings 19:1-18
Elijah’s world had grown unbearably loud, not just with sound, but with fear, exhaustion, and the inner noise of despair. After doing everything he thought God had asked of him, he fled to the wilderness, overwhelmed and ready to give up.
There, beneath a broom tree and later in the shelter of a cave, Elijah encountered a God who refused to shout over the chaos.
There was a wind, but God was not in the wind.
There was an earthquake, but God was not in the earthquake.
There was a fire, but God was not in the fire.
And then, a stillness. A breath. A sound like sheer silence.
It was there, in the quiet margin after all the noise, that Elijah finally recognized God’s presence.
Our lives are often filled with the wind and fire of modern living: constant motion, constant conversation, constant consumption. Noise doesn’t always come through speakers; sometimes it’s the hum of worry, the chatter of comparison, or the relentless inner list of what we should be doing.
But like Elijah, we’re invited to step outside the whirlwind and listen for God in the quiet that remains. Not because God only speaks in silence, but because we often need stillness to hear the whisper that’s always there.
When we pause, when we notice the breath between moments, the heartbeat between demands, we begin to sense that divine presence quietly holding all things together.
This week, I invite you to make space to listen for God in the small, quiet margins of your day.
- Find Your Pause Points: Notice natural breaks in your day, waiting for the kettle to boil, sitting at a red light, walking to your car. Instead of reaching for your phone or rushing on, simply pause and take one slow, deep breath.
- Listen Inwardly: Ask gently, “God, are You here?” Don’t strain for an answer. Let the silence itself remind you that God is near.
- Carry the Stillness Forward: As the day unfolds, imagine carrying a small space of quiet within you, a calm center untouched by noise. Return to it whenever the world feels overwhelming.
By learning to meet God in these margins, we may discover that the sacred has never been absent, only waiting to be noticed.
Let’s pray:
God of quiet presence, when my life is filled with wind and fire, teach me to listen in the spaces between sound. Let Your stillness meet my restlessness, Your calm meet my chaos, and Your voice whisper through the noise, reminding me I am not alone. Amen.
