Welcome to The Happy Theologian.
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
There is a kind of loneliness that has nothing to do with being alone. It comes from loving someone you can no longer reach. Maybe you lost someone to death. Maybe a friendship slowly faded away. Maybe there is someone in your life you are cut off from, someone who is still alive but feels gone.
I know that last one. Some of you do too. The hardest part for me is not the quiet from the other person. It is the moments when I wonder if my prayers are going anywhere. When I honestly ask myself, is God even listening?
Most days I believe he is. But I want to show you why. And I want to do it from inside the pain, not from the other side of it.
That feeling, the one where you wonder if God is listening, has a name in the Bible. It sounds like this:
“What is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?” (Psalm 8:4)
That question puts words to the silence. David was not saying he did not believe in God. He was doing what all of us do when we hurt. He was asking if God had forgotten him.
David wrote those words while looking up at the night sky. He saw the moon and the stars, and he felt small. The sky was so big and so quiet. And in that moment he asked the question that grief, loss, and unanswered prayer always bring to the surface: Does God actually notice me?
What I keep coming back to is that David does not push the question away. He lets it sit. But look at how the psalm begins and how it ends. The very first line and the very last line are the same: “LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth.” The quiet in the middle is real. But it is wrapped in praise. The doubt has edges. It is not the whole story, and it is not the last word.
What stands out to me in Psalm 8 is that God is said to be mindful of us. That word in the original language means more than just being aware. It means actively remembering someone and doing something about it. God does not just know you are there. He is paying close attention to you on purpose.
That makes the question harder, not easier. If God is paying that kind of attention, why does the silence feel so heavy sometimes?
The writer of Hebrews felt that same pull. He points to Psalm 8, which says people are crowned with glory and honor, and then admits something honestly: we do not yet see this fulfilled (Hebrews 2:8). Not yet. He does not try to explain it away. He just names it as the place where faith does its work. The gap between what God has promised and what we are living through right now is not God walking away from us. It is simply not yet. And that is a very different thing.
An unanswered prayer does not mean God is gone. It means we are still in the middle of the story. And the middle of the story, no matter how long or how hard, is not where stories end.
Think about what Matthew tells us happened after Jesus rose from the dead. Of all the things he could have written down, this one gives me pause: when the eleven disciples saw Jesus on the mountain, they worshiped him, but some of them doubted.
Some doubted. Matthew does not skip over that or clean it up. He just leaves it there, doubt sitting right next to worship, uncertainty right next to the presence of the risen Jesus. And then Jesus speaks. Not just to the ones who had it together. Not after the doubters had worked things out. He spoke to all of them, right in the middle of the mess.
It helps to look closely at the word doubted. In the original Greek it does not mean someone had totally given up on Jesus. It means they were hesitating. They were caught between what they had seen and what they could not quite hold onto yet. If you are hurting, waiting, or praying without an answer right now, you probably know that feeling.
“And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20)
David looked up at the sky and asked if God notices us. He wondered if a God big enough to make the moon and stars had time to care about one hurting, waiting person. And here is Jesus, standing on a mountain with eleven struggling, hesitating men who had just been through the worst days of their lives. His answer is simple: I am with you. Not someday. Not if things get better. Always.
That word, always, means even more than it looks like. In the original Greek it means the whole of every day. Not just that Jesus will show up at the end. It means no day goes by without him. The day your prayer goes unanswered. The day the silence is the loudest. The day it is hardest to keep going. Every one of those days, all the way through, is what Jesus means when he says always.
That promise is for you. It was spoken into silence then, and it speaks into your silence now. God has not forgotten where you are. He has not gotten tired of your prayers. He is with you in the waiting, in the hesitation, in the long stretch of not yet. And that, unlike the silence, does not run out.
Whatever you are carrying today, whoever you have lost, whatever relationship feels broken or out of reach, however long you have been praying without an answer, hear this: you are not forgotten. The God who made the moon and stars is the same God who walks toward hurting, doubting people and says I am with you. Always.
I am still in the waiting. Most days I believe he is with me in it. And on the days that are hard to hold onto, I come back to what the psalm and the mountain both tell me.
The current moment of emptiness is not the end.
Silence doesn’t get the last voice.
Notes:
The New International Version. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011. Psalm 8:1, 4; Matthew 28:20.
Ash, Christopher. Psalms 1–50. Vol. 2, The Psalms: A Christ-Centered Commentary. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2024.
Boyce, Richard. “Exegetical Perspective on Genesis 1:1–2:4a.” In Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary: Year A, edited by David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, vol. 3. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011.
Carson, D. A. “Matthew.” In The Expositor’s Bible Commentary: Matthew, Mark, Luke, edited by Frank E. Gaebelein, vol. 8. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1984.
Parrish, V. Steven. “Homiletical Perspective on Psalm 8.” In Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary: Year A, edited by David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, vol. 3. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011.
Stamper, Meda A. A. “Exegetical Perspective on Matthew 28:16–20.” In Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary: Year A, edited by David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, vol. 3. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011.
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