When Faith Feels Quiet

Learning to Stay with God in the In-Between

The other week in church, the pastor mentioned “seasons”.

So, I’ve been thinking about how we don’t talk enough about the in-between seasons.

You know the ones—not the crisis moments where we’re desperately clinging to God, and not the spiritual highs where everything feels alive and full of wonder. I’m talking about those quiet stretches where everything’s… fine. Life is steady, nothing is falling apart, but still… something feels off.

Emotionally distant. Functioning, but disconnected.

Those are the times I struggle most.

Not because I’m angry or doubting or walking away—but because I catch myself going through the motions. I’ll open the Bible app, read the verse, whisper a half-hearted prayer, maybe even write a blog post or two—but my heart isn’t fully in it. It’s like I’m doing all the things about God without actually sitting with God.

And that feels awful to admit. Especially when you’re someone who loves Him. Who writes about Him. Who wants others to know Him.

But it’s the truth. And if I’ve learned anything so far on this journey, it’s that God can work with honesty a lot better than He can work with pretending.

The In-Between Can Be Lonely

I used to think the biggest test of faith came during suffering. And in many ways, that’s true—hardship sharpens us. It breaks and rebuilds us. But I’ve come to believe the in-between seasons carry a special challenge of their own.

Because in these stretches, there’s nothing dramatic pushing us to our knees or lifting us into praise. There’s just… everyday life. The dishes. The errands. The annoyances. The low-level noise that never quite goes away. And somehow, in all of that, it’s easier than I want to admit to slip into autopilot.

And I start wondering:
Why am I not feeling You, God?
Why do I feel so empty?
Did I do something wrong?

But here’s what I’m learning: feeling spiritually “off” doesn’t mean something is broken.
It means I’m human. And, I’m in a season.

He Still Meets Me There

God has this way of showing up even when I feel least connected.
Not with burning bushes or loud stories—but with soft, unexpected reminders that He hasn’t moved. That He’s still near.

Like the other day, I was half-scrolling and half-praying (not my best moment, I know), when a verse popped up that I’ve read several times before:

“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10

But for some reason, this time, the words didn’t feel like a command. They felt like an invitation.

“You don’t have to push or strive or fake it. Just be still. And know I am here.”

Or the time I felt unusually sad for no particular reason, and out of nowhere, a friend texted, “You’ve been on my mind today. Everything okay?”

It was simple. Timely. God-breathed.

It’s Okay to Not Feel “On Fire”

I feel guilty when my faith doesn't feel passionate or “on fire.” Like I’m somehow failing because I’m not riding a spiritual high all the time.

Then, I’ll read a Psalm, and see how David—a man after God’s own heart—wrote about feeling distant and weary.

“Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God…” — Psalm 42:5

Even the faithful feel off sometimes. Even the devoted feel lonely.

And here’s the comfort: We don’t lose God in our dry seasons.

He’s not disappointed when we show up with a weary heart. He doesn’t walk away when our prayers sound flat.

He just stays. Right there. Quietly waiting for us to turn our attention back to Him—not with performance, but with presence.

What I’m Learning to Do in These Seasons

I wish I had a neat formula for getting out of this kind of funk. But faith isn’t a checklist—it’s a relationship. And like any relationship, there are ebbs and flows, slow stretches and sweet ones.

Here’s what I try when I find myself in the in-between:

1. Be honest with God—even if I feel nothing.

Sometimes my prayers start with, “I’m here, but I’m not feeling it today. Please, help me show up anyway.”

2. Soak in Scripture, even when it doesn’t “hit.”

I read it anyway. I let it sit in the background of my day. Because God’s Word is alive—even when I don’t feel alive reading it.

3. Notice the small nudges.

That song lyric. That friend’s call. That line in a book. They’re not always coincidences. Sometimes they’re God’s breadcrumbs.

He’s Still Worth Holding Onto

Even when it’s quiet.
Even when I feel flat.
Even when I’m just going through the motions.

He’s still God.
He’s still good.
And He’s still here.

So if you’re in one of those in-between seasons too—if your heart feels a little numb or disconnected—please know: you’re not alone. And you’re not doing something wrong.

Keep showing up.
Keep whispering those prayers.
Keep opening the Word.

You don’t need a burning bush to be in God’s presence. Sometimes it’s in the stillness that He speaks the loudest.

With gratitude and faith,
Patti