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Stop missing God’s whispers. Learn how creating sacred space and removing distractions opens you up to hearing God clearly.
When God Feels Silent: The Thorny Struggle of Prayer
My wife gets mad at me sometimes. I know, big surprise. “Your wife gets mad at you? Shocker!” Wives getting mad at their husbands has been a thing since, I don’t know, probably hunter-gatherer days. “We’re running out of mastodon meat and you’re spending your time at the watering hole?! You can sleep in the thorn bushes tonight.” Today it’s more like “Why didn’t you take the trash out?” or “Take those shoes off when you’re in the house” or “You fold clothes like a neanderthal. I hear the thorn bushes calling your name!”
But I’m not talking about the everyday stuff we’re all familiar with. At least, not today. No, my wife gets mad at me sometimes because I appear to be able to communicate with God rather effortlessly and because she doesn’t, well… that strikes a bit of a nerve.
So naturally, she takes it out on me.
Okay, okay, I’m being a bit overdramatic here for entertainment purposes. She doesn’t really get mad at me. But you can understand how frustrating it might be for someone to struggle to have dialogue with God while the person next to her just goes about it like he’s tracking dirt all through the house. And to a certain extent, it’s true. Sometimes I can just stand there in the kitchen and be talking along with God as if He’s standing right there in front of me.
But the key word there is “sometimes”. It’s not that I have some special hotline to God. I don’t. There are moments when I feel like I’m shouting into the void, hoping that my words don’t just echo back in an empty chamber. Which I would be willing to bet, is not unlike how my wife experiences it. Sure, it often looks like I’ve got this all sorted out but in truth, talking to God is not always easy. And hearing Him can feel even harder. When you’re looking for guidance or help or even just acknowledgement from the Lord and nothing ever seems to come back, it’s extremely frustrating. Not just frustrating. It can be painful.
This universal yearning to communicate with God isn’t a new struggle. We read, we study, we sit in the quiet, and still, there are days we come up with nothing but the thinnest wisps of a response. And in those moments, it’s easy to wonder if we’re doing something wrong. But we’re not alone in this. The desire to hear Him speak is old as the hills and wide as the sea.
And, I suppose, sometimes thorny as a thorn bush.
Seeking Signs of God’s Presence in Everyday Life
Here’s the thing… He’s God. All-powerful, all-knowing, present at every tick of the clock and every gust of the wind. You’d think that with the breadth of His power, communication would be straightforward. A booming voice, a whisper that cuts through the static of everyday life, maybe a clear sign written in the stars. But most of the time, that’s not how it works. Instead, we find ourselves searching for clues: the right page in a devotional, the pattern of a cloud (“Oh look! A hippo! What do you suppose that means?!”), a song on the radio that hits at just the right time. Squire Rushnell calls them GodWinks, those small moments when the universe seems to align in a way that speaks to you personally. But even then they’re subtle, almost elusive. They’re not the same as a direct, face-to-face conversation where you could, with certainty, say, “I heard Him! That was Him! Oh—and He said neanderthals didn’t even fold their clothes!”
Sometimes I wonder if it was different in simpler times, long before the world became a cacophony of alerts, news cycles, and digital noise. Imagine standing in a muddy field in the Middle Ages, the chill creeping through your tunic as the wind rustled leaves. Or picture yourself on a river, the water lapping against the sides of your small boat, the only sounds being the calls of birds and the whisper of reeds. Without the distractions of screens and schedules, perhaps they found it easier to sink into that sacred stillness where God’s voice might slip through. It’s easy to romanticize those times and forget that their struggles were different, yet the need for that divine connection was the same.
But here we are in our present, buzzing world, trying to tune into that old frequency amidst all the clamor. We’re left asking ourselves, “Where is He, and how do we make it easier to hear Him?”
Why Creating a Sacred Space Opens the Way to God
And then, sometimes, the answer is simpler than we imagine: it’s in the creation of a sacred space. A space that is only for you and God. A place where everything else is turned off, tucked away, or left behind. The goal isn’t just to find a quiet spot. It’s to claim a place that is exclusive to this purpose, a space that your heart recognizes as sacred every time you step into it.
Think of a tree standing alone in a pasture, its branches holding secrets whispered only to the sky. Maybe it’s a sun-dappled corner in your living room or a tucked-away bench in the park that feels like an open cathedral. For some, it’s a shed with an old chair and a blanket where the dust dances in the light and the outside world stays firmly at the door. Or perhaps it’s just that corner of your closet, big enough for you to sit cross-legged, where nothing touches you but silence and intention.
And a shelf full of clothes that aren’t folded “correctly”.
This space doesn’t need to be grand or adorned with stained glass or candlelight (though if that’s what makes your soul sing, go for it). It just needs to be yours. A place where your thoughts and prayers go out with one focus. When you sit there it should feel different, like the moment you step into it the air shifts and your heart says, “This is where I listen. This is where I wait.”
Creating this space isn’t about ensuring God will speak. We don’t command that. But it’s about removing the barriers that crowd His voice. It’s saying, “I’m here, ready, expectant, and willing.” It’s a practice of setting the scene so that if and when He whispers, we’re not straining to hear over the noise of our cluttered minds.
Your Sacred Space: Simple, Personal, and Transformative
“So what’s your sacred space, Ender?” Well see, that’s the thing—I haven’t found it yet. I don’t know if it’s because there isn’t enough room in my house, or that I’m being too precious about what that space is and what it should be, or if I’m just putting it off because part of me feels like I don’t need that.
But I do need that. Sure, I have an easier time speaking with God than many others do (I think). But even if it was super easy all the time, I’d still need that space. Even if the communication was that consistent, imagine how much better it would be if it was amplified by that space!
And the more I think about it, the more I feel as though nearly everything you do should have a “special” space for where you do it. After all, you don’t cook in the living room. You don’t pee in the refrigerator. And you don’t do your laundry in the shower.
So why would you ever find the proper clarity, peace, and calm needed for communication with God in these places?
Finding a sacred space isn’t a guarantee that the heavens will open up with a chorus. It’s not a cheat code to hear God at your whim. But it’s a place where the world can fall away, where you can clear out the debris, and in that quiet, make space for possibility. Sometimes the answer is an echo of your own heart. Sometimes it’s silence, deep and unfathomable. And sometimes, in that sacred stillness, there’s a sense of presence, not so much in words but in the way your soul feels seen and known.
So if you’re searching, start with finding your sacred space. It doesn’t need to be perfect; it just needs to be yours. And who knows? Maybe in that chosen spot, amid the hum of your waiting, you’ll hear the quietest, most profound response: not with ears, but with the raw, unfiltered part of you that says, “Here I am.”
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Do you have a sacred space where you communicate with God? What is it? Why did you choose that? Was that your first choice or did you try something else first? What advice might you have for someone trying to find that sacred space? If you don’t have a sacred space, why do you think that is? What do you feel is lacking in the spaces you have available? What kind of space are you looking for? Share your thoughts and experiences below!