Day 17—Monday, March 24, 2025

1 Kings 19:11-12

The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.”

Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.

“Prayer is more listening than talking.”

Reading this scripture, I realized there are voices I can’t remember—family who has long since passed away. I still hear traces of my grandfather’s voice when my father-in-law speaks, but I can’t recall my other grandparents’ voices and my father’s voice. Thankfully, I have recordings of them all and was able to listen to them.

In one recording, my father shared something he’d learned about prayer: “Prayer is more listening than talking.” Confessional prayer can work like a yard sale, helping us empty ourselves and making room for new ideas and thoughts. When we’re finally empty, we can listen and hear God. Being quiet is the only way we can get there.

I love silence, but it’s hard to find. I’m a shower singer, and there’s always some song in my head. Music is everywhere—radio, TV, Alexa, my phone. If it’s not music, it’s a TV show, movie, or podcast. Silence is rare.

Elijah’s experience above teaches us that God’s voice is a gentle whisper, heard only when we escape the loud distractions around us. We also face the challenge of quieting our minds, often filled with our own anxious thoughts. Creating quiet takes effort, but only then can we be ready to hear God’s gentle whisper.

A PRAYER FOR QUIET by Richard J. Foster

I have, O Lord, a noisy heart. And entering outward silence doesn’t stop the inner clamor. In fact, it seems only to make it worse. When I am full of activity, the internal noise is only a distant rumble; but when I get still, the rumble amplifies itself. And it is not like the majestic sound of a symphony rising to a grand crescendo; rather it is the deafening din of clashing pots and clanging pans. What a racket! Worst of all, I feel helpless to hush the inner pandemonium.

Dear Lord Jesus, once you spoke peace to the wind and the waves. Speak your shalom over my heart. I wait silently… patiently. I receive into the very core of my being your loving command, “Peace, be still.”

Amen.

-Jason Burton