What If Feeling Stuck Isn't The Same As Being Stuck?
Finding God in life's waiting seasons
I still remember the morning I sat at my kitchen table, staring at a blank journal page, feeling completely lost. Here I was, someone who genuinely wanted to follow Jesus with my whole heart, and I couldn't even figure out why He felt so distant in my life.
It had been weeks, maybe longer, since I'd felt that familiar sense of His presence during prayer. My quiet times felt empty, my prayers felt like they were bouncing off the ceiling, and honestly, I was starting to wonder if I'd somehow disappointed God so deeply that He'd simply moved on. I listened to friends of mine talk about hearing from God, getting clear direction, feeling His peace, and I felt like I was missing something fundamental about the Christian life.
I remember picking up my pen that morning and writing the most honest prayer I'd prayed in years: "God, I feel like You've forgotten about me. Show me You're still there." Then I sat there, waiting for some profound revelation that never came. Just silence. More silence.
What I didn't know then, what I couldn't see in that season of feeling completely stuckwas that God was about to teach me the difference between His silence and His absence. And it would happen through the very practice that felt pointless that morning: putting pen to paper and refusing to give up on conversation with Him, even when it felt one-sided.
Have you ever felt like you're treading water while other believers seem to be getting clear direction from God? Like you're desperately seeking His voice but hearing only silence? Like you're frozen in time, watching others move forward with purpose while you're left wondering if God has somehow forgotten about you?
If you're nodding your head you're not alone. That ache of feeling spiritually "stuck," especially when it feels like God has gone quiet, is one of the most painful experiences a believer can face. It leaves us questioning everything: His goodness, His timing, His love for us, and whether He hears our prayers.
But what if I told you that God's silence doesn't mean God's absence? What if feeling spiritually stuck and actually being abandoned by God are two completely different things?
When God Seems Silent but Isn't Absent
As a certified journal therapy coach, I've known people who've shared, "I just don't hear from God anymore." I've held space for the pain of feeling spiritually dry, forgotten, or somehow "not good enough" for God's attention. Maybe that's exactly where you are right now.
I want you to know something: your pain is real, your confusion is valid, and your longing to hear from God is a sign of a heart that deeply loves Him.
Here's what I've learned through years of walking alongside Jesus and through my own dark seasons: God's apparent silence is often His deepest work. The Israelites felt abandoned in Egypt for 400 years, but God was preparing Moses. Joseph heard nothing from God while falsely imprisoned, yet God was positioning him to save nations. Jesus himself cried out, "My God, why have You forsaken me?" even as the Father was accomplishing humanity's greatest rescue.
When we can't hear God's voice, it doesn't mean He's stopped speaking. Sometimes it means we're in a season where He's working so deeply within us that His voice comes as a whisper beneath the noise of our own fear and pain.
Your feelings of spiritual dryness are real and valid so please don't let anyone dismiss them or make you feel guilty for experiencing them. Even the most mature believers go through seasons where God feels distant. But feelings, while important and worth honoring, don't always reflect the complete reality of what God is doing in our lives. Sometimes we need a different lens to perceive His presence and movement.
Why Journaling Becomes a Lifeline in Dry Seasons
When you feel like God has gone silent, journaling becomes more than helpful, it becomes a sacred lifeline. There's something profound that happens when we pour our honest, messy, even angry thoughts onto paper and invite God into that raw space with us.
I've watched people discover God's voice again through journaling, not because He suddenly started speaking louder, but because they created space to hear His whispers beneath their own inner noise.
Journaling in seasons of spiritual dryness helps us:
Pour out our hearts honestly without fear of judgment (like David did in so many psalms)
Create space for God to speak in ways we might miss in our busy, anxious minds
Document small moments of grace we might otherwise overlook
Process our spiritual pain in a healthy, constructive way
Discover patterns of God's faithfulness even when we couldn't feel it in real-time
Recognize His voice when it comes as gentle impressions rather than audible words
If you're new to journaling, you might think it's not "spiritual enough" or worry that God won't meet you there. But consider this: some of the most honest, desperate prayers in Scripture are found in the Psalms and they read exactly like journal entries. Raw, unfiltered, sometimes angry or confused, yet ultimately surrendering to God's character even when His actions don't make sense.
When God's Silence Becomes Sacred
Here's something that might shift your perspective: sometimes God allows seasons of silence not because He's absent, but because He's doing His most important work in the quiet places of our hearts. It's in the stillness when all the religious noise falls away that we often encounter Him most deeply.
When you feel spiritually stuck and can't hear God's voice, you might actually be in a season of:
Heart surgery that requires stillness and rest
Deep root development that happens underground, unseen
Learning to recognize His presence beyond feelings and circumstances
Developing faith muscles that can only strengthen through waiting and trusting
Preparation for breakthrough that requires internal shifts first
Growing in compassion for others who are walking through dark valleys
The enemy wants you to believe that God's silence means He's disappointed in you or has given up on you. But what if His quiet presence actually means He trusts you enough to walk through this valley with Him, even when you can't see His face clearly?
A Gentle Way to Begin: Journaling for the Hurting Heart
If you're new to journaling, especially if you're in pain right now, let me make this as simple and gentle as possible. You don't need perfect faith, eloquent words, or even hope. You just need:
A notebook or even scraps of paper
A pen
Permission to be completely honest with God
10-15 minutes when you won't be interrupted
Here's how to start when your heart is hurting:
Begin with this prayer-prompt: "Dear God, show me how You're working even when I feel stuck."
Now here's the important part: write whatever comes up, even if it's messy. Even if it's angry. Even if it's just, "I don't feel You working at all, and I'm scared and lonely." God can handle your honesty. In fact, He's waiting for it.
Don't edit yourself. Don't try to sound spiritual. Let your thoughts and feelings flow onto the page like you're talking to someone who loves you unconditionally, because you are.
Some days you might fill pages with your pain. Other days you might manage only one sentence. Some entries might be complaints and questions (God welcomes them). Others might be tiny gratitudes or memories of when you felt His presence. The key isn't perfection—it's showing up authentically, even in your brokenness.
Additional prompts when God feels silent:
"God, I can't hear You right now, and it's scaring me..."
"Show me one small way You were present today, even if I missed it..."
"What are You teaching me in this silence that I couldn't learn any other way?"
"Help me trust Your heart even when I can't see Your hand..."
"I'm hurting. Will You sit with me in this pain?"
Creating a Safe Place for Your Heart
Journaling works best when it becomes a gentle, consistent practice, not another item on your spiritual to-do list that makes you feel guilty when you miss a day. Consider finding the same time each day when you're least likely to be interrupted. Maybe it's early morning with your coffee, or late at night when the house is quiet.
Create a simple ritual that signals to your heart that this is sacred time: light a candle, play soft music, or simply take three deep breaths before you begin.
Remember, you're not performing for God here. You're not trying to impress Him with your spiritual insights. You're simply showing up with whatever you have: doubt, fear, anger, hope, emptiness, and trusting that He meets you exactly where you are. Especially in the broken places. Especially when you feel like you have nothing left to give.
When You Look Back: Discovering God's Hidden Presence
One of the most healing aspects of journaling is the ability to look back and see God's presence in seasons when you felt most alone. When you're in a place of spiritual dryness, I encourage you to flip back through previous entries even from just a few weeks ago.
You might be surprised to discover:
Small moments of grace you had completely forgotten
Prayers that were answered in unexpected ways you hadn't noticed
Your own spiritual growth happening so gradually it was invisible day-to-day
Evidence of God's provision and protection during your hardest moments
Times when you felt His absence, yet somehow found strength to keep going
This becomes your personal testimony of God's faithfulness, not the dramatic kind you hear from the stage, but the quiet, steady kind that shows up in ordinary Tuesdays when you thought you were walking alone. These become your "stones of remembrance," proof that even when God felt absent, He never actually left your side.
An Invitation for the Weary Heart
If you've never journaled before, or if you tried once but gave up when it didn't immediately fix your spiritual dryness, I want to offer you a gentle invitation to try again. Not because journaling is magic, but because God often meets us in the written word in ways He can't when our minds are racing with worry and fear.
Start tonight, if you can. Begin with this simple prayer: "Dear God, show me how You're working even when I feel stuck." Then write whatever comes, the pain, the questions, the exhaustion, the faint hope you're almost afraid to acknowledge.
You might be surprised by what flows from your pen. You might discover that God has been speaking all along, just in whispers you needed silence to hear. You might realize that your season of feeling stuck was actually a season of being held so gently you didn't even notice His arms around you.
Your dry season isn't evidence that God has forgotten you. It might be evidence that He's trusted you with something sacred: the opportunity to know Him beyond feelings, beyond circumstances, beyond everything except His unchanging character and unfailing love.
The invitation is this: bring your hurting heart to the page. Bring your questions, your fears, your disappointment with God. Bring the places where faith feels impossible and hope feels foolish. He's not afraid of your honesty. He's been waiting for it.
And in that sacred space between your pen and the page, between your heart and His, you might just discover that He never left you. He was simply teaching you to recognize His voice in a new way, the way of whispered love that doesn't depend on your ability to hear, but on His commitment to never stop speaking.
May you hear His voice today.
Mike
PS: You are seen. You are loved. And you are not alone, not even in the silence.





When Silence Holds the Promise: The Journey of Everlasting Joy in the Waiting Seasons
The wind was dry that day, scratching across Sarah’s doorway like an unwelcome guest. The land had forgotten rain, and so had her heart. Her flour jar echoed with emptiness. The days blurred together — another sunrise, another waiting.
That’s when Elijah appeared. Not with rainclouds, not with an overflowing pantry, but with a request and a promise.
“Do not be afraid… make me a small loaf first… for this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the Lord sends rain…” (1 Kings 17:13–14)
It wasn’t the end of the drought that lifted her heart — it was the presence of God in her doorway. She realized she had never been truly stuck; she had been held. And in that moment, the Journey of Everlasting Joy — that deep, unshakable awareness of God’s nearness — began to settle into her mind, heart, and soul.
Simeon’s Long Watch
Decades later in Jerusalem, another heart waited — Simeon’s. The Spirit had told him he would not see death until his eyes beheld the Messiah (Luke 2:25–32). Every day he watched the temple doors. No sign. No movement. No change.
Until the moment everything changed. Mary and Joseph entered carrying Jesus, and Simeon’s lifetime of “silence” became the stage for God’s perfect timing. The promise had been alive all along.
The God Who Searches and Runs
Jesus would later tell of a shepherd who left ninety-nine sheep to find the one who wandered (Luke 15:4–7). That lost sheep, tangled in the thorns, might have thought it was stuck — but the shepherd called that found.
He told another story of a son who squandered everything, trudging home rehearsing apologies. The father didn’t wait for him to reach the porch — he ran to him (Luke 15:11–32).
These are not stories of people finding their own way; they are stories of God closing the distance.
Blessed Hunger
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says,
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.” (Matthew 5:6)
Hunger itself is a blessing. It means the soul still knows what it longs for. Feeling spiritually “empty” does not mean the pantry of God’s presence is bare — it means a feast is coming.
The Word Does Not Return Void
Isaiah 55:10–11 tells us that God’s word is like rain and snow that water the earth — it always accomplishes its purpose. Even in a drought, the seed is not dead; it’s waiting for the appointed rain.
Sarah’s jar didn’t run dry. Simeon’s eyes saw the promise. The lost sheep was found. The prodigal was embraced. The hungering heart was filled.
Journaling as a Temple Court
In my own journey, the “quiet seasons” have been where journaling became a lifeline. Every entry was a temple court — my way of holding the mantle of promise until I could see the fulfillment.
Like Simeon waiting at the temple, or Sarah measuring out flour one handful at a time, journaling kept me present to the God who was already present.
For the One Who Feels Stuck
If you’re staring at the ceiling in prayer, or staring at a blank journal page, wondering if God has forgotten you — remember this: silence is not absence. The drought is not abandonment. Feeling stuck may actually mean you’re standing still long enough for God to do His deepest work.
So keep writing. Keep showing up. Keep holding the mantle of light.
Because one day, like Sarah, like Simeon, like the prodigal, you’ll find that the Journey of Everlasting Joy has been with you the whole time — settling into your mind, rooting in your heart, anchoring your soul.
And you’ll see Him.