Pathway of Purpose

Photo by  Nick Fewings  on  Unsplash Silence can feel uncomfortable. In a world full of noise, constant alerts, and endless chatter, we often try to fill every pause. Yet the Bible reminds us that silence is not emptiness. It is space. A holy pause. A place where God’s whisper can be heard. “After the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.”  (1 Kings 19:12–13, NLT) Elijah expected God to show up in wind, earthquake, and fire. Instead, God was present in the stillness. Silence is not absence—it is presence revealed differently. The Biblical Witness of Sacred Quiet Psalm 46:10 commands,  “Be still, and know that I am God.”  The Hebrew word for “be still” carries the sense of “cease striving.” Silence, then, is not passive but active trust. It is letting go of our grip and allowing God to hold what we cannot. Jesus Himself practiced silence. He oft...

Photo by  Joana Abreu  on  Unsplash Questions can feel like threats to faith. For many, asking  why  or  how long  or  where are You, God?  carries shame. We have been told that faith should be certain, confident, and unwavering. Yet the Scriptures themselves are full of questions. Job cried out. David wept with  how long, O Lord?  The disciples asked  who then can be saved?  Even Jesus on the cross asked,  My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me? The questions are not the enemy. They are often the very place where God meets us. The Biblical Witness of Honest Questions In John 20, Thomas has forever been labeled “the doubter.” But notice how Jesus responded. He did not shame Thomas for wanting to see the scars. He met Thomas where he was and invited him closer:  “Put your finger here… see my hands. Stop doubting and believe”  (John 20:27, NLT). Doubt was not a dead end. It was a doorway—one that led Thomas ...

Photo by  Ahmet Ölçüm  on  Unsplash When we imagine the movement of God, we often look up—up to the pulpit, up to the stage, up to the ones with platforms and influence. Yet throughout Scripture, the Kingdom of God doesn’t usually break in from the top down. It seeps in from the margins, from below, from the places most people overlook. The Gospel of Luke paints this beautifully. Mary, a poor, unwed teenager, sings about God scattering the proud and lifting the lowly (Luke 1:52). Shepherds on the edge of society hear the angels before kings do (Luke 2:8–20). Jesus Himself is born not in a palace but in a manger. Over and over again, the Kingdom presses through the cracks of society’s structures, reshaping what we think is powerful, important, and worthy. The Power of the Margins In the ancient world, margins weren’t celebrated—they were places of scarcity, weakness, and vulnerability. The poor, the sick, the foreigner, the widow, the prisoner: these lives weren’t centered...

Photo by  13on  on  Unsplash Waiting is rarely welcome. We avoid it, resist it, rush through it. Whether we’re waiting in traffic, in a hospital room, in an unanswered prayer, or in the long ache of an unfulfilled dream — the in-between is uncomfortable. Time slows down. Clarity dims. Hope flickers. But Scripture doesn’t treat waiting as wasted time. It presents waiting as sacred ground — a spiritual classroom where God does some of His deepest work. The Problem with Waiting We often equate waiting with passivity, helplessness, or delay. In a culture of speed and instant gratification, waiting feels like failure. We ask: Why hasn’t it happened yet? Did I miss God? Is something wrong with me? Has God forgotten? But biblical waiting is not inactivity — it’s  attentiveness . It’s not about doing nothing. It’s about doing the deep work of trusting when we cannot see. “But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They w...

Photo by  Virginie-Sankara  on  Unsplash There’s a sacred quiet that comes with being unseen. Not the kind of invisibility born of neglect or rejection, but the purposeful retreat from the spotlight — the hidden life, where the truest acts of faithfulness are never posted, praised, or platformed. In the Kingdom of God, the hidden is not wasted. In fact, it’s often where the deepest transformation occurs. The Hidden Spaces We Avoid We live in a time that rewards visibility. Followers. Influence. Recognition. Likes. When something good happens, we want to share it. When something hard happens, we want to make meaning out of it — publicly. We fear being forgotten. Overlooked. Passed by. But there is an invitation in hiddenness. The soil does its best work unseen. The womb holds and forms without applause. Jesus, too, lived the vast majority of His life in obscurity. Thirty years of carpentry, quiet prayers, unknown meals, family chores. Only three years of public ministry. E...

  “He was despised and rejected— a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. We turned our backs on him and looked the other way. He was despised, and we did not care.” —  Isaiah 53:3, NLT Pain That Shapes Us Suffering is the one universal language we all speak. Whether it’s quiet disappointment or soul-crushing loss, every human life is marked by pain. And yet—when the ache comes, we often believe God is absent. As if joy is His native tongue, and sorrow is a language He doesn’t understand. But the gospel tells another story. It tells of a God who bleeds. A Savior whose glory is revealed not only in resurrection but in crucifixion. A Comforter who does not bypass pain but walks straight into it with us. Sacred noticing in suffering is not pretending we are okay—it is realizing God is already there.  Present. Tender. Weeping alongside us. Jesus and the Wounded Places The story of Thomas in  John 20  is striking. After the resurrection, the disciples tell Th...