S2 Ep.1 When God Feels Quiet

What if the quiet you’re hearing isn’t absence, but invitation? We open season two by stepping into 1 Samuel 3 and the tender moment God calls a sleepy apprentice by name. The word was rare, the lamps were still lit, the rituals kept going—yet clarity felt thin. From that ancient night, we draw a living guide for modern hearts that have learned the sound of notifications but forgotten the shape of holy interruption.

We trace Samuel’s missteps without shame. He runs to Eli because he hears a voice and assumes the familiar. It takes time, patience, and a wise nudge to teach him the simplest posture: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” That line becomes our compass. We don’t chase spectacle; we practice availability. We talk about recognizing God’s voice in ordinary moments—a line that lingers, a conversation that won’t let go, a verse that resurfaces when you need it most. We look at repetition not as redundancy but as mercy, the way truth returns until we are ready to receive it.

Along the way, we get practical. Start small. Make space for a sentence, not a performance. Notice recurring themes across scripture, conscience, and community. Trust that God plays the long game and isn’t offended by your learning curve. If God called Samuel four times, He can handle your hesitation. And if you’re weary or unsure, take heart: being human is not a defect. It’s the place where grace does its best work.

If the season ahead feels crowded or thin, join us as we practice a gentler way to listen. Subscribe, share this with a friend who could use some quiet courage, and leave a review to help others find the show. What simple line is echoing in your life right now?

Let's Get Into It!!

Transcript

Season Two Welcome

Naming The Quiet: God’s Silence

Scripture: God Calls Samuel

Mishearing The Voice And Learning

Practical Ways To Listen

Prayer And Sending

Speaker 0:08

Welcome friends to season two of Ancient Truth for the Modern Heart. I'm Steve Pozzato, and whether this is your first time joining or your tenth or eleventh time joining, I am happy and grateful that you are here to spend this time with me. And to start season two off, I'd like to talk about something that many of us carry quietly. And it's a good way, I think, for me anyway, and perhaps for you as well, to begin reflecting as we prepare for this season of Lent coming up in a few weeks. And that thing that we carry quietly is not doubt, and it is not necessarily disbelief. Although those are some things we carry on occasion. No, but the thing I'd like to talk to you about today is silence. And it's not the silence where we feel that God is rejecting us or God leaving our side. Those things don't happen, of course, but what about those moments where God just feels quiet? And you can believe deeply, you can pray faithfully, and you can keep showing up and still wonder, am I missing something? Or did God stop speaking to me? Or did I forget how to listen? Well, Scripture knows this feeling, right? Long before podcasts and push notifications, and long before crowded calendars and glowing screens and all of these things that we base our lives around today, there was a season where even Israel said the word of the Lord was rare. So let's together step into that moment. Our scripture reading today comes from 1 Samuel chapter 3, verses 1 through 10. This is the Lord calling Samuel. The boy Samuel ministered before the Lord under Eli. In those days the word of the Lord was rare. There were not many visions. One night Eli, whose eyes were becoming so weak that he could barely see, was lying down in his usual place. The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the house of the Lord, where the ark of God was. Then the Lord called Samuel. Samuel answered, Here I am. And he ran to Eli and said, Here I am, you've called me. But Eli said, I did not call, go back and lie down. So he went and lay down. Again the Lord called Samuel, and Samuel got up and went to Eli and said, Here I am, you called me. My son, Eli said, I did not call. Go back and lie down. Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord. The word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. But a third time the Lord called Samuel, and Samuel got up and went to Eli and said, Here I am, you called me. Then Eli realized that the Lord was calling the boy. So Eli told Samuel, Go and lie down, and if he calls you, say, Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening. So Samuel went and lay down in his place. The Lord came and stood there calling as at the other times, Samuel, Samuel. Then Samuel said, Speak, for your servant is listening. That story begins quietly. The boy Samuel was ministering before the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days. Friends, that line matters. It doesn't say people were evil, and it doesn't say that worship had stopped. It said God's voice was uncommon, rare, hard to hear. The temple still stood and the lamps were still lit and the rituals were still happening. But something seemed thin and dry, faded. Eli the priest was faithful, but he was old. His eyesight was failing. And the scripture we hear today is honest enough to let that be symbolic. When spiritual vision grows dim, we don't always notice at first. We adjust to the shadows. We assume that this is normal. And then one night God speaks. Not in thunder, not in fire, in a name. Samuel. And Samuel does what any good apprentice would do. He runs to Eli. You called me. But Eli did not. It happens again and again. God speaks, but Samuel misplaces that voice. And that's not because Samuel is disobedient, and it's not because he's unfaithful, but rather perhaps he's inexperienced. He doesn't yet know what God sounds like. And the voice of God may sound different to all of us. My friends, that is okay. In fact, that is beautiful. How many of us live there? God nudging, God whispering, God interrupting our inner noise. And we just assume that it's our thoughts, our stress, our imagination, and not because we don't love God, but because no one ever taught us how to recognize his voice. As if we could be taught. As if that voice appears as the same thing to all of us. I know that I don't hear God the same way that other people do. I hear God through the people around me. I don't know that I know what the God voice sounds like specifically. Perhaps I do, and I'm too inexperienced to know it also, but I do know that I have heard the messages of God, and God speaking to me through others, through their voices, through his children. But again, how you hear the voice of God, that's for you. But let's get back to our story. Finally, Eli understands, and he tells Samuel, if he calls to you again, say, speak, Lord, for your servant is listening. And that is not eloquent, it's not dramatic, it's just open, right? Speak. I'm listening. That's it. And when Samuel says those words, everything changes. And it's not because Samuel becomes holy in that moment, but because he becomes available, consciously available. Listening is not a talent, it's a posture sometimes. It's choosing to be interruptible. It's believing that God might speak in the ordinary, in a tired mind, in a quiet room, in a moment that does not feel important. God doesn't scold Samuel for missing it the first three times. He keeps calling patiently. Calls him by name. Which is again repeated in Isaiah 43:1, that he has called us by name, that we are his. And this story reminds us that silence does not mean absence. It often means God is doing something quieter than we expected. So what do we do with this? First, my friends, be gentle with yourselves. If God feels quiet, it does not mean that you are broken in some way. You are human, like the rest of us. Every one of us is children of God waiting to hear the voice. Second, start small. You don't need perfect stillness, you don't need spiritual fireworks. You need space for a sentence. Speak, Lord. I am listening. And that's not because you can be certain in that moment that he will speak, but because you're willing to listen if he does. Third, pay attention to repetition. God often speaks the same truth more than once. This I have experienced in my own life, and it isn't always one moment to the next. Sometimes there is time and space between for us to understand the gravity of what we heard in different times in our lives. And often we hear that same truth more than once through scripture, through conviction, through a conversation you can't forget, through a line that stays with you, through the moments in your life when you know you've just heard or felt or experienced something that was important. And then maybe even years later, something like that happens again, and you feel comforted in the remembering of that experience or that voice or that set of words. That's how it happens sometimes. God's patient, he plays the long game. So there's that. Finally, trust God's patience. He called Samuel in this story four times. He's not hurried, he's not fragile, he's not offended by a learning curve. But we train ourselves to recognize thousands of sounds as well, and he thinks that it's Eli. So what are some of the sounds that we recognize in our own lives? Is it a child's cry, perhaps? The footsteps and footfalls of a spouse or a loved one or a family member? A phone vibrating in another room? How is it on a coffee table filled with cell phones we know which one is ours? We learn by exposure, by time and by attention. And I think so does listening for God. It takes time and it takes a lot of patience. But when we are able to listen, by being available to listen, we find that God perhaps has been speaking all along. So if today you feel like Samuel, perhaps unsure or half awake or even afraid of missing something, you are closer to that moment than you think you are. God is still calling us by name, we are still his. And perhaps he is not calling loudly, but faithfully. Give yourself the grace, give yourself the time, and when you are ready to be at rest, then say, Speak, Lord, for I am listening. Let us pray, my friends. God who speaks in the night, God who calls us by name, teach us how to listen again. Not for thunder, but for truth, not for spectacle, but for your presence. Quiet what is loud within us and strengthen what is tired. Give us courage to say even when we are unsure. Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening. Amen. My friends, I am once again grateful and thrilled that you have taken this time with me. Go out into this world, into your days, into your evenings, wherever you are that you happen to be listening to this. Go out there with joy in your steps and with hope on your lips. Go with love in your heart. For wherever you carry love, you will go in peace. Be well, my friends, and be safe. Until next time, farewell.