You were taught to fear your own thoughts — because silence was dangerous, right? That’s where doubt creeps in. But silence also heals.
In this post, you’ll talk about unlearning fear-based faith — how your still moments became sacred, not sinful.
Share an honest story of sitting in silence for the first time and realizing you weren’t “losing” faith — you were meeting it.
I was raised to believe that silence was dangerous. Quiet moments were where temptation whispered, where doubt could creep in, where the devil had room to talk. So I filled the gaps with noise — gospel songs, prayers, sermons, always something to drown out the stillness. Because stillness was suspicious. But over time, the noise stopped helping. I wasn’t growing; I was hiding.
It wasn’t until I sat in silence — trembling, uncomfortable, stripped of every ritual I knew — that I started feeling again. I didn’t hear angels, I didn’t see visions. I just felt… real. For the first time, I could sense what I’d been running from: my own thoughts, my pain, my confusion, and my longing for something deeper than religion could offer. Silence didn’t lead me away from God. It led me back home.
Religion had taught me to fear what I didn’t understand — to avoid questions that didn’t have easy answers. But silence had no fear in it. It just waited. Patient. Gentle. It showed me that feeling doubt doesn’t make you faithless; it makes you human. And when I finally stopped filling every quiet moment with holy noise, I realized that God was never hiding in the sermons or the shouting — He was sitting quietly inside me all along.
Now, I don’t run from silence. I run to it. Because that’s where truth lives — not in fear, not in guilt, but in the peace that asks for nothing and still gives everything.