Dear Royalty,
Let’s not pretend – there are nights when prayer feels like talking into the ceiling.
You start out full of fire: hands raised, eyes shut, quoting every verse you’ve memorized since Sunday School. You say, “In the name of Jesus,” and press your palms together like an offering. But minutes pass. Days stretch. Weeks blur. And nothing moves.
No sign. No whisper. No breakthrough. No miracle.
Just quiet.
Painful, stretching, hope-testing quiet.
You keep praying, because you’ve been told not to stop. But deep in the corner of your soul, a question starts to grow like a crack in glass:
“God… do You even hear me anymore?”
I’ve been there.
Fasting, praying, hoping, sowing, everything seemed to be done with the utmost sincerity and devotion……. but alas! no thunder reverberated through the skies. No sign of relief or change appeared in sight. Anxiety felt ever-present, tightening its grip around my chest. Each day felt like an uphill battle, with doubts creeping in like shadows, whispering that perhaps all my efforts had gone unnoticed, leaving me to question the very essence of faith and perseverance in the face of relentless challenges.
And yet, I couldn’t walk away from Him.
Why?
Because I remembered something that changed everything: God is not a vending machine. He’s a Father.
You don’t manipulate a Father. You walk with Him.
See, we’ve been trained to measure God’s presence by answered prayers. But what if His silence is not absence, but invitation? What if He’s less interested in giving you the thing, and more interested in giving you Himself?
Consider Lazarus.
Jesus heard his friend was sick. He could’ve run to heal him. But He didn’t. He waited. And by the time He arrived, Lazarus was not just sick, he was dead. Buried. Grieved over. Done.
If you were Mary or Martha, wouldn’t you have asked, “Why did You wait so long, Jesus?”
But when He finally came, He didn’t just heal. He resurrected.
That delay didn’t mean denial. It meant something greater was coming , something only the waiting could birth.
Dear Royalty,
What if your “unanswered” prayer isn’t being denied, it’s being transformed?
What if what you’re asking for is too small for what God is building?
We pray for comfort, but He’s building character.
We pray for a quick yes, but He’s weaving a legacy.
We want the miracle. He wants maturity.
There’s a kind of strength that only grows when your faith has to walk through fog.
Here’s what I’ve learned in the quiet seasons:
- God’s silence is never without purpose.
If He’s not speaking, He’s doing. Building. Shifting. Protecting. Preparing. Just because you can’t hear Him doesn’t mean He’s not near. - Sometimes, no answer is the answer.
It means “wait.” It means “not now.” It might even mean “I have something better.” And yes, that still stings. But better hurts before it heals. - Faith is built in the dark.
If you only trust when things go your way, that’s not faith, that’s convenience. Real trust is forged when you still believe while you bleed. - God collects every tear.
Even when your prayers feel weak, they rise like incense. Not one tear is wasted. Not one groan is ignored. Heaven writes it all down.
So, tonight, if your knees are tired and your prayers feel dry, don’t stop.
Pray one more time. Whisper if you must. Cry if you need to. But don’t give up on the One who has never given up on you.
He may be quiet.
But He is still God.
And when He moves, because He will – it’ll be in a way that shows you: the wait wasn’t a waste. It was worship.
Still believing with you,
A fellow warrior in the in-between
Sharon Paulina Boye
June 2, 2025
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