Live the Golden Line: When God Remains Silent; And You Must Choose– Part 29

By Andre Eksteen

There comes a time in every believer’s journey when even heaven grows quiet. You pray, but no answer comes. You ask, but there is no sign. You wait, but days become weeks, and weeks become years. And in that silence you begin to wonder: has God forgotten? Have I perhaps missed Him? Have I done something wrong? This is the place where your faith no longer sings songs, but whispers. This is the place where you stop preaching and start living what you believe. This is the place of the final test — obedience without confirmation.

God’s silence is not His absence. It is His discernment. It is where He looks to see whether you will still follow Him without the light of revelation, without the comfort of signs, without the reassurance of His voice. This is the highest level of faith — to obey when you hear nothing. Abraham knew this when God said to him: “Get thee out of thy country unto a land that I will shew thee.” (Genesis 12:1 KJV) Not: “I will show you now.” Not: “I will explain why.” Just: “Go.” And he went. Without a map, without a plan, without confirmation. He simply obeyed.

This is the path of the Golden Line. Not the path of explanation, but the path of trust. This is where you no longer ask “why” — you only ask “how long”. And even then, no answer comes. Because silence is God’s way of testing whether your faith still rests on Him, or has already shifted to your own understanding.

Job sat there on his ash heap. His children dead. His wealth gone. His body covered in sores. His friends full of words. And heaven — full of silence. “Behold, I cry out, but I am not heard.” (Job 30:20 KJV) But what Job did not know was that God was not silent — He was simply not speaking. He was watching. He was measuring. He was waiting. Because God does not build faith through explanation; He builds it through trust.

When heaven remains silent, it is not because God is punishing you — it is because He is refining you. It is His way of seeing whether your faith is merely a response to His blessings, or a relationship with His being. The world believes because it sees; the holy believe because they know. “Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.” (John 20:29 KJV)

It is easy to believe when the words flow, when prophecies wash over you, when the Spirit is tangible and heaven feels close. It is easy to obey when you hear every day: “My child, I am with you.” But it is something else entirely to stand in the wind of abandonment and still say: “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” (Job 13:15 KJV) This is where faith truly begins — not in confirmation, but in surrender.

God does not always explain Himself. He owes you nothing. Not explanation, not justification, not comfort. These are hard words for a church that has grown soft, but they are the truth. We have made God in our own image — a gentle Father who must always explain, always comfort, always appear on demand. But He is not a service provider. He is the Creator of heaven and earth. He remains God, even when you do not understand Him. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.” (Isaiah 55:8 KJV)

This is what has made modern faith so empty. We want answers before we obey. We want certainty before we move. We want peace without sacrifice. But God’s silence forces you to choose — either to believe or to flee. It is His final sifting instrument. When you can no longer hear Him, He shows you who you really are.

I have stood there myself. The place where you once knew His voice — now you hear only your own breathing. The Bible is open, but the words lie dead on the page. Your prayers feel like echoes against a ceiling of brass. You ask: “Lord, where are You?” And He does not answer. And in that silence your soul begins to break. Not because He is gone, but because He wants to teach you that faith does not grow on reassurance, but on surrender.

Even Jesus felt it. On the cross, when He cried out: “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46 KJV) This is the voice of the Son hearing the silence of the Father for the first time. And yet — in that silence the greatest redemption ever took place. Heaven was not empty; it was listening.

It is the same silence in which Abraham had to lift his son with a knife in his hand. The same silence in which Joseph waited in prison without a release date. The same silence in which Moses tended sheep for forty years with a calling that remained quiet. The same silence in which Mary had to watch her Son die without explanation. And it is the same silence in which you are standing now.

The Book of Baruch says: “When the Lord hides His face, He measures the heart of man.” (Baruch 4:21) That is exactly what happens in those times — He measures you. Not your faith-words, but your true anchor. Will you remain standing when nothing works? Will you keep serving Him when there is no feeling left? Will you continue to honour His Name when everything in you is calling you to flee?

The world will tell you silence is a sign of absence. Scripture says it is a sign of trust. “He that believeth shall not make haste.” (Isaiah 28:16 KJV) The enemy wants you to believe silence means God has forgotten. He wants you to start making your own plans, moving on your own, protecting yourself, providing for yourself. He wants you to save yourself. That is exactly what he offered Jesus in the wilderness — “Make your own bread, jump from the temple, prove yourself.” It is always the same temptation: do something now, because God is silent. But Jesus answered: “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” (Matthew 4:4 KJV) Notice — not by every word that has already proceeded, but by what proceeds. Present tense. He said: I will wait for His voice, even if He is silent now.

The silent seasons are not the end of revelation; they are the deepening of your relationship. They are where you learn that His voice is not meant to carry your faith — your faith must carry His voice. They are where you stop living on signs and start living on truth. They are where you realise: I no longer need to hear what He says, because I know who He is.

The Shepherd of Hermas says: “The man who endures the silence of God in faith shall be greater than the one who hears and wavers.” (Hermas, Commandment 6:3) This is the golden line of maturity: to wait without complaining, to obey without confirmation, to believe without feeling.

God’s silence is His sifting process. It is where He separates the genuine from the false. The false believe only while the voice sounds pleasant, while the blessing flows, while doors open. The genuine believe even when every door slams shut. The false wait for the wind of prophecy; the genuine wait for the breath of His presence. The false believe because they are afraid to lose; the genuine believe because they cannot do otherwise.

This is where the Golden Line ends — not in answers, but in acceptance. When you finally grow quiet and say: “Even if I understand nothing, Lord, I will stay.” This is the place where God’s silence becomes His language. And you begin to understand that He does not always speak, because His works are busy preaching to you. “Behold, I go forward, but He is not there; and backward, but I cannot perceive Him… but He knoweth the way that I take: when He hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.” (Job 23:8–10 KJV)

I have learned to trust God’s silence. Not His words, not His miracles, but His silence. Because His silence does not mean He is gone — it means He is at work. It means He is shaping me into something I do not yet understand. Everyone who has truly been used by God was first broken by silence.

Noah had to build for 120 years without rain. Abraham had to wait decades for a son. Joseph had to sit for years without an answer. Moses had to listen to the echoes of sheep rather than angels. David had to hide in caves for years with an anointing that bore no fruit. Every one of them passed the same test: obedience without confirmation.

This is the final test of faith — to choose without clarity. To move without a map. To obey without reward. This is the final line of the Golden Line: trust without comfort. And few pass it, because few remain quiet long enough to understand what He is doing.

I have learned that God’s silence is His signature. It is how He shows He is still there. Because the devil always makes noise, but God whispers or remains silent. His enemies make noise; His children learn to listen. The Odes of Solomon say: “In His silence I knew Him; in His stillness He revealed His strength.” (Ode 19:3)

There comes a time in every life when you must choose without confirmation. This is where you realise that faith is no longer a feeling, but a commitment. This is where you must decide: either I believe that He is who He says He is — or I walk away. This is the choice Adam faced, the choice Job faced, the choice Abraham faced, the choice Jesus Himself faced. And it is the choice you are facing now.

God is not asking for more prayers. He is asking for a decision. He is asking that you continue to trust Him, even while He remains silent. Because that is what faith is — being certain of what you do not see. “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1 KJV)

This is where you must stop asking for answers and start living the answer. This is where you realise: I am not called to understand; I am called to obey. This is where you grow quiet and say: “Lord, I do not understand, but I will still do what is right.” This is the purest form of worship there is — obedience without feeling.

That is why God sometimes remains silent just before He moves. He watches to see whether you believe His character more than your circumstances. He watches to see whether you honour Him in silence as you do in blessing. Because if you only believe while He speaks, that is love for His voice; but if you continue to believe while He is silent, that is love for Him.

I say this with reverence and truth: there comes a time when you must choose — not between good and evil, but between faith and fear. Not between truth and lies, but between obedience and comfort. Not between light and darkness, but between waiting and running away. And God will say nothing. He will simply watch.

And that choice — the choice to keep believing in the silence — determines who you truly are. For this is the final test of the Golden Line: you no longer live for answers, but for truth. You no longer serve for results, but for His honour. You no longer ask why — you simply say: “Thy will be done.”

This is where faith matures. This is where your calling ends — in silence, with certainty, without words. This is where you stop seeking confirmation and begin to live in trust.

God remains silent, but His silence speaks. It says: “I am here. I am watching. I am testing. I am building. I am preparing.” And one day, when you look back, you will see that His silence was the clearest season of your life. Because it is in the silence that you learn what you truly believe.

When God remains silent, you must choose. Not a prayer, not a song, not a declaration — just a decision. Will you keep believing, or will you turn back? Will you keep waiting, or will you move on your own? Will you trust Him, or will you test Him?

He will say nothing. He will simply watch.

Because silence is the language of testing. And only those who learn to listen in it become gold.

Deep calls to deep. Answer Him.