Prayer or Podcast?

If prayer were a podcast, there have been times in my life when I was hosting every episode—solo.

Hey God, Cat here. Thank You for this beautiful day—the weather was amazing!

Ok, here’s today’s rundown:

I’m stressed about a work presentation I have to give tomorrow. Please help the words that come out of my mouth actually make sense.

I yelled at my partner over leaving a dirty bowl in the sink and now I feel like a total jerk. Can You help me with that whole "think before you speak" thing?

Also, am I ever going to get better at CrossFit? Because wow, it’s getting embarrassing.

OK, thanks, love You, BYE!

Then, back to work. Back to sleep. Back to doomscrolling.

Back to wondering why I felt so... unheard.

When God Can't Get a Word in

It’s not that God won’t talk. Sometimes, we don’t stop our chatter long enough to listen.

Prayer isn’t supposed to be a one-way monologue—it’s a conversation. You know—talk and listen.

But listening in prayer can feel awkward. You finish what you have to say, and then what? Wait like you’re on hold with divine customer support?

"Your prayer is very important to us. Please remain on the line."

How God Speaks… If You Let Him

God talks to us in many different ways: during prayer or meditation, through Scripture, in a gut feeling that nudges you out of nowhere, while you’re driving, or in a sudden wave of peace that washes over you when stressed.

The idea of making space to hear God first clicked for me at a church retreat many years ago in New Jersey.

In a small group discussion, people were sharing stories of how God had spoken to them. I sat there, growing more and more annoyed, thinking, Why haven’t I heard anything from Him? Is God not interested in what I have to say? Am I doing something wrong?

Then it hit me: Oh...maybe I have to shut up so He can get a word in.

I work in PR. I’ve always talked too much. So this wasn’t exactly a shocking revelation.

Learning to Listen

I decided to practice listening that very same day.

I went back to my hotel room. It was a cold and dreary February weekend, the rain streaking down the windows in thin, crooked lines. I pulled a chair close to the glass, propped my feet up on the windowsill, and settled into the grayness of the room—hands folded in my lap and eyes closed.

I sat in silence, inviting God to sit with me—because someone in the group said you should do that.

After a minute or two, I started talking. I was looking for a new job and trying to figure out what was next. I asked Him to guide me toward something I would truly love—something meaningful, where I could bring real value. I added a few more requests to the list, and then hesitantly asked if something like that might be possible. But if not, I told Him I’d be grateful for whatever plan He had for me.

As I spoke, my mind began to calm. A blanket of quiet settled over me. With my eyes still closed, my words trailed off, and I slipped into a silent, meditative stillness.

Then I felt it—a light passing across my face, bringing with it a soft warmth as the clouds broke and sunlight streamed through the window. I stayed still, letting it linger.

It lasted maybe 20 seconds—and then, as quickly as it had come, the light faded and the room returned to gray. Still, I remained there, settled in a deep, unexplainable peace.

God didn’t shout, On it—I’ll find that job for you stat!

But as the light and warmth washed over me, so did a strong, quiet assurance that whatever He had planned would come, and it would be good.

A couple weeks later, I got a call out of the blue with a job opportunity that ended up being everything I had asked for—and even more than I had imagined asking for.

Listening Looks Different Every Time

The way God speaks to us isn’t always the same.

Sometimes, it’s unexpected words that spill out of your own mouth.

Like the time I was praying about a lack of confidence and suddenly blurted out, You are my confidence!

It wasn’t something I thought up—it just came out. And immediately, that same calm reassurance rushed over me again—just as it had all those years ago in New Jersey. It was okay if I didn’t have confidence. He had it for me.

Scripture Hits Different When You’re Listening

Sometimes God speaks through Scripture in ways that feel almost impossibly personal.

A line you’ve read a hundred times suddenly lights up on the page—like it was written just for you.

It’s one of the coolest ways God meets us: taking something ancient and making it brand new, aimed directly at whatever we’re going through.

Writing Often Becomes a Conversation

Lately, I’ve gotten into faith journaling—reading selected Scripture and then meditating on it through writing. Sometimes I copy down verses I want to memorize (I even put them in a small notebook, broken out into categories and color-coded—because apparently I think God appreciates a well-organized deliverable). Other times, I write devotionals or jot down whatever God is putting on my heart.

More often than not, this opens the door for a deeper conversation with Him. It invites me to slow down, think more intentionally about what’s flowing onto the page, and consider how it fits into my life. Kind of like a conversation with a friend, where you walk away with a fresh perspective or something new to work on.

And Sometimes, He Just Breaks the Tension

At times, God just makes you laugh.

One evening, I was deep in a stressed-out prayer spiral—listing every worry—when I opened my eyes and saw my cat lying upside down, tongue out, with one paw dramatically flopped over his face like he was overwhelmed too.

I laughed so hard, the heaviness dissolved, and the spiral snapped.

Well played, God.

But...He’s Not a Genie in a Bottle

As great as all this sounds, God isn’t a genie.

He doesn’t always respond right away, give you the answer you want, or grant wishes on demand—if at all.

Sometimes He answers yes—but with ten steps you didn’t ask for.

Sometimes it’s no—but perhaps not for the reasons you assume.

Sometimes it’s wait—making the way forward feel even more uncertain.

Sometimes it’s silence—which, in itself, becomes the answer.

And sometimes the answer comes later—because our timeline is not the same as God’s.

That’s where faith comes in.

Faith Lives in the Pause

Faith doesn’t depend on how clearly we hear God; it depends on how deeply we trust that He hears us.

But pausing to listen still matters—not because God speaks on demand, but because it shows our willingness to open our hearts to Him, trusting that He’s working—even when we can’t feel it or see it.