STILLNESS IS NOT PASSIVE: IT IS AN ACT OF TRUST

“We need silence to hear God; in the noise, we only hear ourselves.” – Anonymous.

In our fast-paced world, silence is often mistaken for inactivity, and stillness is confused with laziness. We measure productivity by the noise we make, the tasks we accomplish, and the agendas we check off. Yet Scripture calls us to a different rhythm—one in which stillness is not the absence of action but the presence of trust.

At first glance, stillness seems passive. How can simply being quiet or waiting accomplish anything? But in reality, stillness is a spiritual posture, an act of surrender that says, “I cannot solve this. I cannot fix everything. I am not God—but You are.”

Trusting God through stillness requires courage. It requires us to resist the urge to fill the silence with chatter, busywork, or distractions. We fear what might surface in those quiet moments—the doubts, the anxieties, the questions about life and faith. Yet it is in this space that God meets us. Elijah, after a whirlwind, an earthquake, and fire, found God not in the dramatic chaos but in a gentle whisper (1 Kings 19:11–12). God’s presence is often revealed when we stop straining and start listening.

Stillness also restores perspective. In the stillness of prayer or meditation, we recognize the futility of striving to control outcomes that are not ours to command. It reminds us that our worth is not measured by activity or achievement but by our relationship with God. Even Jesus, who carried the weight of the world’s sin, often withdrew to solitary places to pray (Mark 1:35). His stillness was not avoidance—it was preparation, replenishment, and a conscious act of trust in the Father’s timing.

Practicing stillness is a discipline, not a one-time event. It can begin simply: a few quiet minutes in the morning before the day’s demands take over, a pause to breathe and pray in the middle of a busy schedule, or a deliberate walk without music or conversation, opening your heart to God’s voice. In these moments, we are not passive observers; we are participants in a divine exchange. We surrender our anxious agendas and receive His peace, guidance, and perspective.

Ultimately, stillness is an act of faith. It declares that we believe God is working even when we cannot see it, that He is listening even when we do not hear, and that His timing is perfect even when ours is impatient. It is in the quiet surrender of our hearts that we discover the profound strength of trust, the peace that surpasses understanding, and the power of God’s presence moving in ways we cannot manufacture.

The question is, can we embrace stillness—not as inactivity, but as intentional trust? Can we practice the courage of silence, the discipline of waiting, and the confidence that in letting go, we are letting God?

Discussion Questions:

1. When we practice stillness, what fears or distractions most often keep us from fully trusting God—and why do we resist letting go?
2. How might intentionally choosing silence and waiting on God change the way we speak, act, or respond in our daily lives?