What Happens When Two Are in a Conversation, but Only One Is Talking?

That’s me and God sometimes. Maybe you, too?

I’ve always been the talkative one. Every report card had the same story: “talks too much,” scrawled neatly under “intelligent” and “creative.” And honestly, I wore it as a badge of honor. I wasn’t the quiet achiever or the type to timidly raise her hand. I was the girl whose words flowed like a river—sometimes calm, sometimes wild, but always moving. Words were my gift, my way of connecting with the world.

Even my French teacher, Monsieur François, had a phrase just for me: “Tu n’es jamais obligé de ne pas parler dans ma classe”—you never have to not talk in my class. Whether reading aloud, sharing ideas, or sparking conversations, my words were my bridge to others. They were my way of leaving a mark, of ensuring I was seen and heard.

But as I reflect, I realize my connection with God can’t be built on words alone. It’s not just about what I say; it’s about what I hear. And listening? Well, that has been a much harder lesson to learn. It’s humbling, requiring patience and stillness—two qualities that don’t come naturally to me.

Storytelling is at the heart of who I am, and in many ways, it reflects who God is. The more I grow in my relationship with God, the more I see that He’s the master storyteller. The Bible—God’s masterpiece—is a collection of stories that reveal His unchanging character. It tells of creation, redemption, grace, and love. The beauty of God’s storytelling is not passive. He doesn’t just tell us stories to inspire us. He invites us to step into them, to find ourselves in His grand narrative. And that’s where I learned a humbling truth: in this divine conversation, listening is far more powerful than speaking.

When I silence my chatter, when I create space to hear Him, that’s when I find the wisdom, comfort, and guidance I’ve been searching for. His voice doesn’t come with thunder or fanfare. It’s a gentle whisper, a nudge in my heart, a truth that resonates deeply.

But, oh, how hard it is to stop talking sometimes! I want to tell Him everything—my fears, my dreams, my frustrations. And He listens. Patiently, lovingly.

But then He asks, “Will you let Me speak?”

When I do, everything changes. In the quiet moments, not in the flurry of my words, I find clarity and peace. God whispers His promises, reminds me of His love, and gently nudges me toward His plans. It’s in those still moments that I understand the depth of His presence. Sometimes, it’s a verse that leaps off the page. Other times, it’s a sudden sense of peace or a renewed perspective on a challenge I’m facing.

Yet, even knowing the power of listening, I often fall back into my old habits. I fill the silence with noise, afraid of what might surface in the quiet. But God, in His patience, waits for me to return. He doesn’t demand my attention; He invites it.

In my life, I’ve seen that God loves when we share—our hopes, our dreams, even our fears. But what He cherishes most is when we step back and let Him speak. That’s when the relationship deepens, trust grows, and His story becomes entwined with ours.

Consider Moses. He wasn’t eloquent or confident. He doubted, stammered, and questioned. But he listened to God’s voice and trusted Him enough to act. Through Moses’ obedience, God performed miracles and delivered a nation. Or think about David. His psalms are raw and unfiltered—full of joy, anger, despair, and hope. He poured everything at God’s feet, and in return, he found the heart of God. David’s vulnerability became the foundation of his intimacy with God.

And then there’s Jesus, the greatest storyteller of all time. His parables weren’t just clever illustrations; they were revelations of the Father’s heart and invitations to transformation. Each story Jesus told was layered with meaning, calling listeners to reflect, repent, and believe. His life itself was the ultimate narrative, a testament to God’s redeeming love.

Looking back, I see how God has been writing His story through me all along. My chatter, curiosity, and need to connect weren’t random traits. They were gifts He planted for a purpose. As I’ve learned to surrender my voice to Him, He’s shown me how to use it to share His love. He’s taught me that words have power, not just to connect, but to heal, to encourage, and to point others to Him.

There’s something transformative about letting God lead the conversation. In those moments, I’ve seen Him write joy into my sorrow, strength into my weakness, and hope into my uncertainty. It’s a partnership—one where I bring my willing heart, and He brings His infinite wisdom. And the best part? He’s not done yet. Every day, He continues to add new chapters, new lessons, and new opportunities to grow.

Maybe you’re like me, always talking, always trying to figure it all out. Or maybe you’re on the other end of the spectrum, unsure if your story even matters. Let me tell you this: it does. Your story, with all its twists and turns, is part of His bigger picture. And He’s inviting you to share it, not just with Him, but with the world.

God doesn’t waste a single word of our lives. Every triumph, every failure, every moment of doubt—it’s all part of a greater testimony. When we let Him take the pen, He turns even our messiest chapters into something beautiful.

So, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: our relationship with God, isn’t just about speaking. It’s about surrendering. It’s about listening to His voice, finding our place in His story, and sharing it with others.

So, here’s my challenge to you: Sit. Pause. Listen. Let Him speak into your heart. In this divine conversation, it’s not about how much we say. It’s about the depth of the connection we build. And when we open our hearts to Him, His story and ours become one. Together, they form a narrative of redemption, hope, and unwavering love.