Have you ever been talking to someone, and you know they’re hearing you, but they’re not really listening?
Their eyes are somewhere else. Their mind is somewhere else. They’re nodding… But you know they missed everything you just said.
Parents know this feeling well.
Sometimes, especially with little kids, you’ll gently grab their cheeks, turn their face toward yours and say,
“Hey… Look at me.
I need you to listen.”
It isn’t because you’re angry. It’s because what you’re about to say matters.
I wonder if God ever feels that way with us?
Not because He needs our attention, but because we desperately need His direction.
We’ve been there!
The last several months have stretched my wife and I in ways we didn’t expect.
Like everyone else, we’ve prayed. We’ve asked questions. We’ve tried to figure out what God was doing.
And if I’m being completely honest…
There were moments where we weren’t looking at God anymore.
We were looking at outcomes. Looking at doors. Looking at opportunities. Looking at timelines.
Looking at what we thought should happen.
And without realizing it…
We slowly stopped asking: “God, what do You want?” And started asking: “God, why aren’t You doing what we want?”
Those are two very different questions.
God doesn’t always whisper.
Sometimes He does. Sometimes He leads gently. Sometimes He simply opens a door.
But other times…
He interrupts us. He blocks the road. He slows us down.
He allows enough frustration into our plans that we finally stop long enough to ask: “God, are You trying to tell me something?”
A couple weeks ago, I found myself reading through one of my favorite passages in the Old Testament—1 Kings chapter 19.
It’s the story of Elijah.
And if you’ve ever felt emotionally drained, spiritually exhausted, or just plain overwhelmed, you’ll probably find yourself somewhere in this chapter.
Here’s what struck me.
This is the same Elijah who had just stood on Mount Carmel and watched God answer by fire.
He had seen one of the greatest miracles recorded in Scripture. He had confronted hundreds of false prophets. He had experienced an incredible victory.
Yet only a short time later… He’s running for his life.
Discouraged. Afraid. Emotionally exhausted. In fact, he tells God he’s had enough.
God eventually tells Elijah to stand on the mountain because He’s about to pass by.
If you know the story, you know what happens next.
A violent wind tears through the mountains. But God isn’t in the wind. Then comes an earthquake. But God isn’t in the earthquake. Then comes a fire. But God isn’t in the fire.
Finally…
Scripture says:
“After the fire came a gentle whisper.”
(1 Kings 19:12)
And it was in the whisper that Elijah heard God.
That passage has been sitting with me. Because I wonder how often I’m looking for God in the spectacular while He’s trying to speak in the quiet.
I want dramatic answers. Clear directions. Open doors. Definitive signs.
Meanwhile…
God is simply saying, “Slow down, be still, and listen.”
Sometimes God isn’t trying to speak louder, He’s trying to get us to become quieter.
That thought has challenged me over the last few months.
Life has been busy. Decisions have needed to be made. Opportunities have come and gone. Questions have lingered.
And if I’m honest…
There were moments where we weren’t really listening anymore.
We were was analyzing. Strategizing. Planning. Trying to solve everything in our own understanding.
My mind was so full of my own thoughts that there wasn’t much room left to hear His.
We often think that if something is important, it has to be loud.
But parents know that’s not always true. Sometimes the quietest words carry the greatest weight.
Sometimes you gently turn your child’s face toward yours and say: “Hey… look at me.”
Not because you’re angry… Because what you’re about to say matters.
I wonder if that’s what God does with us. Not shouting from heaven. Not condemning us.
Just gently turning our attention back to Him.
“Look at Me and listen.”
Not just Sunday. Every day.
Not Just Sunday: Truth in the Tension of Everyday Faith 
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