by Whitney Edwards-Russell

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Summer is often described as slow and restful—lazy afternoons, long evenings, and a break from the usual schedules. In youth ministry, though, summer can feel anything but restful. Camps, mission trips, VBS, retreats, travel, and extra gatherings quickly fill the calendar. What feels like a slower season for many becomes one of the busiest seasons for church leaders.

As I prepare for another full summer, I keep returning to Elijah’s encounter with God in 1 Kings 19.

Elijah is exhausted, overwhelmed, and afraid. After fleeing Queen Jezebel and wandering in the wilderness for 40 days and nights, he arrives at Mount Horeb, where God tells him to stand on the mountain because the Lord is about to pass by.

First comes a great wind powerful enough to split rocks—but God is not in the wind. Then an earthquake—but God is not in the earthquake. Then fire—but God is not in the fire.

And after the fire comes sheer silence.

A few summers ago, my family rented paddleboards at the beach. I imagined peaceful floating and calm waters. Instead, the ocean was unpredictable and exhausting. My husband kept trying to stand up on his board, while the waves knocked him down behind the shore break. I chose to stay on my knees and paddled toward calmer water.

One morning, feeling particularly confident, I decided I was finally going to conquer this thing. I paddled farther and farther out until the waves settled, and the noise disappeared. Surrounded by nothing but sky and sea, I did what anyone would do in that moment: I started singing about the horizon and the water calling to me just like Moana.

For a brief moment, there was only silence, beauty, and stillness.

Then I looked back toward shore and realized just how far I had drifted.

That moment reminds me of Elijah. It is in the silence—not the chaos—that he recognizes God’s presence. God does not arrive with thunder or spectacle, but with a quiet voice asking a simple question: “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

In a world filled with notifications, schedules, and constant noise, silence can feel uncomfortable. Michael Easter, in his book The Comfort Crisis, argues that our minds have become so crowded with technology and distraction that we struggle to be fully present. At some point, we have to intentionally turn down the noise.

That is exactly what Elijah did in the wilderness. Disconnected from everything else, exhausted and afraid, he was finally able to hear God’s still, small voice.

This summer, even in the midst of busy calendars and full schedules, may we make room for intentional Sabbath moments—moments

quiet enough for us to hear God whisper hope once again.

Maybe that begins with something as simple as Michael Easter’s “20-5-3” rule:

• 20 minutes outside without a screen each day,
• 5 hours in nature each month, and
• 3 consecutive days away from your phone each year.

In a noisy world, perhaps creating space for silence is one of the holiest practices we can reclaim.

Rev. Whitney Edwards-Russell is associate pastor of youth and missions at Vinton Baptist Church in Vinton, VA.

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