The Quiet Yes

“My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” (John 10:27)

“Do not be afraid; only have faith.” (Mark 5:36)

“Let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we shall reap.” (Galatians 6:9)

There are seasons when “yes” feels like a big word, which can also feel loud, expensive and risky. You want to trust God, but your chest is tight, your energy is thin, and your mind is running a thousand worst-case scenarios before breakfast. If you’re anxious, unsure, or burnt out, you don’t need a dramatic leap today. You need something smaller. Something kinder. Something quiet. Because that’s how Jesus often works. Not in the pressure of “prove your faith by doing something huge,” but in the gentle invitation of a single next step. The quiet yes is not a performance. It’s a relationship. It’s your soul saying, “I don’t have the strength for big promises right now, but I can give You this moment.”

John 10 says, “My sheep hear my voice.” That’s not a flex for super-spiritual people. That’s a promise for you. Hearing God’s voice isn’t reserved for the calm or the confident. It belongs to the loved. And you are loved. But when you’re worn down, God’s voice can feel distant or easy to doubt. Not because He stopped speaking, but because exhaustion turns the volume down on everything. So God, in His kindness, doesn’t demand a roaring yes from a tired heart. He invites a whispered one. A quiet yes might look like:

• “Lord, I’ll open my Bible for two minutes today.”

• “I’ll send that apology.”

• “I’ll take a walk instead of spiralling.”

• “I’ll pray before I react.”

• “I’ll show up, even if I feel empty.”

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Tiny yeses. Ordinary yeses. Unimpressive to the world, but precious to God. Because each small yes rebuilds trust. It is like laying one brick at a time after a storm. You don’t rebuild a house by staring at the rubble. You rebuild it by placing the next brick where it belongs.

Mark 5:36 is one of those verses you can hold in your pocket all week: “Do not be afraid; only have faith.” Notice what Jesus does not say: “Don’t feel afraid.” He doesn’t shame fear. He just refuses to let fear write the story. He’s saying, “I know fear is here. But let Me lead anyway.” The quiet yes is how you let Him lead, not all at once, but one step at a time.

And here’s what’s wild: those small yeses change you more than the dramatic moments do. Big yeses feel powerful in the moment, but quiet yeses form a life. They train your heart to recognise His voice in the ordinary. They teach your nervous system that obedience doesn’t have to be panic-fuelled. They remind your soul that God is safe.

Galatians 6:9 says, “Let us not grow weary in doing good.” That verse isn’t a whip, it’s a hand on your shoulder. It’s God acknowledging weariness is real, and then promising that your steady faithfulness will bear fruit. Not instantly. Not noisily. But surely. Quiet yeses plant seeds. And God is faithful to grow what you plant with Him. If you’re in a season of “I can’t do much,” hear this: God can do a lot with your little. He’s not waiting for you to feel brave. He’s waiting for you to be willing. And willingness is often quiet. So today, don’t aim for a heroic yes. Aim for a faithful one and the next one, the small one and the quiet one.

Because that’s where trust comes back, that’s where you learn again: His voice is gentle, His leading is good, and His presence is near.

Everyday action

Right now, choose one quiet yes for today. Just one. Write it down or say it to God: “Jesus, my yes today is ______.” Then do that one thing with Him. Tomorrow, you’ll give another. That’s how trust grows back, not in a rush, but in a rhythm.

Prayer

Jesus, I’m tired, and sometimes I’m scared to say yes because I don’t want to fail You or fall apart again. Thank You that You are gentle with my weakness. Help me hear Your voice without pressure. Give me the grace for one quiet yes today, one step of trust, one act of obedience, one moment of surrender. Rebuild my confidence in You through small faithfulness. I belong to You.

Amen.