Sitting in Solitude: An ordinary night, a quiet heart, and a God who’s still speaking

It’s quiet in the house tonight—

Outside, the sky’s been spitting rain on and off, like it can’t decide if it’s going to storm or not. The windows have that end-of-day gray glow, and inside everything feels still. There’s soft light. A bit of music is playing low. And for the first time in a while, I feel something I didn’t expect: content.

Not overjoyed. Not emotionally soaring. Just... okay.
And honestly? That feels like a small miracle.

A night that feels like peace—

I’m not sure when the shift happened. There was no lightning bolt moment, no big realization. Just a gentle settling of the heart. I sat down to read, write, and spend a little time with the Lord, and somewhere in the middle of it all, I started to feel calm.

Like maybe I don’t need to figure everything out tonight.
Like maybe waiting isn’t wasted time.
Like maybe God is doing something—even if I can’t see it yet.

This season looks a lot like stillness—

If you’ve known me for any amount of time, you’ll hear me talk about what I call my Season of Stillness. I’m coming out of a long chapter—marriage, motherhood in the thick of it, navigating divorce, and now settling into a life that looks different than I ever imagined.

There’s space now.
Not just on my calendar, but in my soul.

And while some days that space feels like freedom, other days it can feel like loneliness if I’m not careful. But tonight? It feels like invitation. It feels like God pulling up a chair beside me saying, “Let’s just sit here together awhile.”

I want more moments like this—

I know not every evening will feel this peaceful. There will be noisy days, restless nights, and times when I reach for distractions instead of Jesus. But when these moments of calm do come—where my heart slows and I remember who I belong to—I want to stay in them a little longer.

I want to learn how to recognize God’s presence before I reach for my phone.
I want to sit in the stillness before I fill the silence.
I want to lean into His Word, not out of obligation, but out of love.

Because even when I don’t have the right words to pray, He meets me right where I am. Every time.

If you’re in your own quiet season…

…whether it’s chosen or unexpected, I want you to know this:
You are not behind. You are not forgotten.
You are not missing out.

You’re being held. Gently, patiently, lovingly—by a God who isn’t in a hurry. Who isn’t measuring your faith by your productivity. Who is simply glad you showed up to sit with Him.

Scriptures I’m sitting with tonight:

“Be still, and know that I am God.” – Psalm 46:10
“The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him.” – Lamentations 3:25
“You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart.” – Jeremiah 29:13

A Prayerful Moment:

Father God, help me lean into this moment.
Help me trust that stillness is not a pause in Your plan—but part of it. In Your Holy Name, Christ Jesus, I pray. Amen.

Thanks for sitting here with me.

This is the first of many quiet reflections from this season. I hope they meet you in your own space—whatever it looks like tonight—and remind you that God is already there.

With love,
Sara