Connecting with God through Silence

Life has a way of getting noisy. We're bombarded with voices—social media notifications, demanding bosses, and endless responsibilities. Acknowledging this, it’s crucial to recognize what needs to die in our lives to make room for a deeper connection with God. The incessant noise and busyness often drown out that still, small voice. It's time to take a hard look at what must end.

Naming What Must Die

Let’s get real here: many of us are holding onto old identities that don’t serve us anymore. Whether it’s the label of “workaholic,” “perfectionist,” or “always-busy parent,” these identities can become shackles. They need to die. They keep us from being fully present with ourselves, our families, and God. These false securities act as walls separating us from genuine intimacy with our Creator.

Then there are destructive patterns—habits that might feel comfortable but are ultimately harmful. Think of that nightly ritual of binge-watching television instead of spending quiet time in prayer or meditation. These patterns lead us further away from God’s presence. The comfort we initially find soon fizzles out, leaving us empty.

We also need to confront our ego. The constant drive for recognition, success, and validation can overshadow the voice of God. It’s a competitive world, but when we place our worth in what others think, it creates a chasm between us and God. That ego needs to die.

Additionally, we cling to the illusion of control. Whether it's managing a construction project or navigating finances, the need to micromanage every detail can lead to frustration and anxiety. Letting go of this illusion means trusting God in the uncertainty, and that’s tough. It feels risky, but those risks often lead to greater faith and connection.

So, what needs to die in your life? Old identities, destructive patterns, ego clinginess, and the illusion of control. Recognizing and naming these is the first step in relinquishing them. It’s heavy, but it’s a necessary weight to bear if we want to experience God in new and profound ways.

The Descent into Death

Then comes the dying: letting go isn’t easy. It can feel like an emotional rollercoaster. Picture yourself in a Gethsemane moment, wrestling with God about what you must surrender. You're in your truck, parked outside a job site, and you feel that tightness in your chest—a mixture of fear and resistance. It’s a painful process, and you’re not alone in this struggle.

Stripping away those layers feels like shedding skin. There’s discomfort in vulnerability; whether it’s revealing your struggles with a trusted friend or admitting you need help in a project. Ego death is brutal. You might share your testimony in a men's discipleship group, but the fear of judgment can be paralyzing. Yet, that raw honesty is where real connection begins.

Let’s not sugar-coat this: the resistance can be loud. You might find yourself bargaining with God, asking why you should give up what feels safe and known. Those moments feel dark, full of doubt and insecurity. It’s a battle; the voices of the world urge you to cling harder to your old ways. It’s easy to retreat into the familiar chaos, but that’s not where God is calling you.

Remember, the pain of letting go can also be a teacher. Picture a construction site where you need to clear debris for a solid foundation. That’s the kind of work God is doing in your life. He’s removing the unnecessary to make way for something stronger. The descent into death is painful, no doubt. But it’s a path toward real growth and transformation.

Holy Saturday Waiting

In the darkness: Holy Saturday is a liminal space. The disciples sat in confusion, grappling with the weight of their loss. They had witnessed the death of their leader and were thrust into uncertainty. It’s easy to romanticize the resurrection, but Saturday was filled with doubt and despair. They waited in silence, not knowing what was coming next.

We all face these wilderness seasons—those dark nights of the soul when it feels like God has gone silent. You might feel it when you’re stuck in traffic on your way to a job, your mind racing with worries about finances or family conflicts. When everything around you is chaotic, God often calls you to wait. It’s during these moments of waiting that we can feel the heaviness of our circumstances.

But waiting isn’t inactive; it’s a time for reflection and preparation. Like a construction project that’s paused mid-build, this time allows for the plans to be reevaluated. You might be sitting quietly at the dinner table with your family, sensing an unspoken tension, yet feeling the need to wait for the right moment to address it. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s necessary.

Holy Saturday is about sitting in that silence and allowing God to work in the background. The disciples didn’t k