Day 17: The Wilderness of Silence
THE STORY OF ZECHARIAH
Luke 1:5-25, 57-80
By Annie Francis
By Annie Francis
Elizabeth and Zechariah were described as righteous and faithful, people who obeyed God wholeheartedly. And yet, they lived with a long-standing grief: they had no children, and they were well beyond the years when hope felt reasonable. Their wilderness was not loud or dramatic—it was quiet and prolonged. It was the ache of unanswered prayer. They trusted God, but they also carried disappointment, waiting for something that never seemed to come.
When the angel Gabriel appeared to Zechariah in the temple, announcing that Elizabeth would bear a son who would prepare the way for the Lord, it should have been a moment of pure joy. Instead, Zechariah doubted. Standing in the presence of an angel, he still asked, “How can I be sure?” His disbelief didn’t cancel God’s promise, but it did shape the journey. Zechariah was made unable to speak—a season of forced silence while God fulfilled His word anyway. That silence wasn’t only a consequence. It was formation. In the quiet, Zechariah was invited to watch God work without trying to explain, control, or question the process.
I resonate deeply with that tension—believing God can move, while struggling to believe He will. There are seasons when faith feels fragile, when prayers feel repetitive, and hope feels risky. I’ve experienced moments where doubt didn’t push me away from God, but it did quiet me. Times when I had no eloquent prayers left, only waiting. Looking back, I can see how God used those quiet seasons to deepen my trust. What I questioned with my words, He answered with His faithfulness.
What felt like a delay was actually preparation. Zechariah’s disbelief didn’t cancel God’s promise, but it did push him into a season of silence, reflection and discernment.
Elizabeth’s pregnancy became living proof that God had not forgotten them. Their child’s purpose was to prepare the way for the Savior, so if he had come any earlier, the timing would not have been perfect. What an example of God’s timing being better than our own, right? When John was born, Zechariah finally spoke again. The silence produced something richer than certainty—it produced worship. God did exactly what He promised, even while His servant wrestled with doubt. That’s the hope of this story: God’s faithfulness is not dependent on the strength of our belief. He is steady even when we are not.
Where might God be meeting you in a season of silence or waiting? Is there a place where doubt hasn’t disqualified you, but has invited you into deeper trust? Perhaps God is using the quiet not to shame you, but to shape you, preparing your heart for fuller joy and deeper praise.
PRAY:
Father, thank you for being faithful even when my faith feels small and I doubt your goodness. Meet me in the waiting and the silence. Silence mine or any other voice, so that I can hear yours clearly. Speak louder than any of my doubts. Help me trust your promises when I don’t yet see the outcome. Use this season to form my heart, deepen my faith, and lead me into praise. Amen.
When the angel Gabriel appeared to Zechariah in the temple, announcing that Elizabeth would bear a son who would prepare the way for the Lord, it should have been a moment of pure joy. Instead, Zechariah doubted. Standing in the presence of an angel, he still asked, “How can I be sure?” His disbelief didn’t cancel God’s promise, but it did shape the journey. Zechariah was made unable to speak—a season of forced silence while God fulfilled His word anyway. That silence wasn’t only a consequence. It was formation. In the quiet, Zechariah was invited to watch God work without trying to explain, control, or question the process.
I resonate deeply with that tension—believing God can move, while struggling to believe He will. There are seasons when faith feels fragile, when prayers feel repetitive, and hope feels risky. I’ve experienced moments where doubt didn’t push me away from God, but it did quiet me. Times when I had no eloquent prayers left, only waiting. Looking back, I can see how God used those quiet seasons to deepen my trust. What I questioned with my words, He answered with His faithfulness.
What felt like a delay was actually preparation. Zechariah’s disbelief didn’t cancel God’s promise, but it did push him into a season of silence, reflection and discernment.
Elizabeth’s pregnancy became living proof that God had not forgotten them. Their child’s purpose was to prepare the way for the Savior, so if he had come any earlier, the timing would not have been perfect. What an example of God’s timing being better than our own, right? When John was born, Zechariah finally spoke again. The silence produced something richer than certainty—it produced worship. God did exactly what He promised, even while His servant wrestled with doubt. That’s the hope of this story: God’s faithfulness is not dependent on the strength of our belief. He is steady even when we are not.
Where might God be meeting you in a season of silence or waiting? Is there a place where doubt hasn’t disqualified you, but has invited you into deeper trust? Perhaps God is using the quiet not to shame you, but to shape you, preparing your heart for fuller joy and deeper praise.
PRAY:
Father, thank you for being faithful even when my faith feels small and I doubt your goodness. Meet me in the waiting and the silence. Silence mine or any other voice, so that I can hear yours clearly. Speak louder than any of my doubts. Help me trust your promises when I don’t yet see the outcome. Use this season to form my heart, deepen my faith, and lead me into praise. Amen.
Posted in 21 Days of Prayer and Fasting

2 Comments
Truth with Divine insight…thanks for sharing, Annie!!
So good Annie!
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n“God’s faithfulness is not dependent on the strength of our belief. He is steady even when we are not.”
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nFather may we approach our season(s) of silence and unbelief as intentional time of pruning. Molding. Shaping us to be a prepared people. A people that refuses to grumble and doubt but may the silence draw us more dependent and expectant of you God.
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nMove our silence and waiting to worship. A move only you can do, o God.