The Quiet Life

This past weekend, I sat quietly, earbuds in, listening to Francis Chan speak about the “Quiet Life.” His words fell into my heart like gentle rain on parched ground. The more I listened, the more I realized he was describing the life I long for – a life that is steady, unhurried, simple, and anchored deeply in Christ. In a world that praises productivity, speed, and recognition, the thought of a quiet life feels almost countercultural. Yet, as Francis reminded me, this was exactly the kind of life Paul urged believers to pursue.

In 1 Thessalonians 4:11 we are instructed to make it our ambition to lead a quiet life and that we you should mind our own business and work with your hands. The pairing of the words ambition and quiet caught my attention. Ambition typically pushes us outward—to achieve, to compete, to be recognized. Yet Paul turns this idea on its head. He shows us that true ambition is not about making ourselves louder but about creating space for God in the stillness. Yes, my mind was blown too!

As I continued to reflect on Francis’s message, I realized how much my soul craves this. Life so often feels like it’s pressing me to run harder, to prove myself, to juggle commitments, to stay “in the loop.” Even in ministry or good works, the temptation is to be seen, to measure worth by how much I do. Yet beneath the surface, I sometimes sense an emptiness that busyness cannot fill. The quiet life calls me away from all of that. It doesn’t mean disengagement or lack of purpose. Rather, it means living with a rested heart, a heart that no longer strives for applause. It is learning to find satisfaction in the unnoticed, in the daily tasks, in obedience that happens in secret. It is faithfulness to God in the hidden places.

Francis spoke of how we often overlook the beauty of the ordinary – the small acts of love, the slow rhythms of family, the unnoticed labor that sustains a home or community. And as he did, I thought about my own life. How often do I treat the ordinary as something to rush past on the way to something “greater”? The concept of a “quiet life” teaches me to see that greatness is often wrapped in simplicity. A meal shared at the table. A conversation unrushed. A prayer whispered in the stillness before dawn. These moments are not lesser – they are sacred. God dwells in the ordinary, if I have the eyes to see Him there.

I was also struck by how noisy my inner world can be. Even when the room is silent, my mind hums with to-do lists, comparisons, and anxieties. The “quiet life” Francis described is not only external but internal. It is freedom from the constant hum of self. This is the life I long for – a life where my worth is not bound up in achievements, where my joy is not tied to recognition, where my heart rests secure in Christ’s love. The quiet life is not about shrinking back but about standing firmly in the presence of God without needing the world’s validation.

As I sat with Francis’s words, I felt an odd mixture of longing and peace. Longing, because I know I am not there yet. Peace, because I know God is patient with me in this journey. The quiet life is not something to be mastered overnight; it is cultivated in small, faithful steps. It might look like turning off the phone for an evening to be fully present with my family. It might look like saying “no” to opportunities that would draw me into endless busyness. It might look like spending more time in prayer than in planning. Little choices, repeated daily, form the shape of a quieter life.

As the message ended, I was reminded that the quiet life is not just for my good but for the good of others. When I live quietly, I become a calmer presence for those around me. I create space where God’s love can be seen in gentleness rather than in striving. My life becomes less about drawing attention to myself and more about reflecting the peace of Christ.

When you hear the phrase “quiet life,” what comes to mind for you personally? How might living quietly create space for others to experience God’s love through you? Is there a small step you can take this week to embrace a quieter, more faithful rhythm of life? Please share in the comments.