Can The Lord Trust You With The Voice He Has Given You?

Learning to Speak When Silence Feels Safer

Let’s talk about voices. Yours. Mine. God’s.

From the time we’re born, we instinctively use our voice to cry for help, to express joy, to learn, to connect. But somewhere along the way, life can chip away at our confidence—especially when it comes to using our voice for God.

By the time you finish reading, I hope you’re encouraged and emboldened. I hope you feel a fresh fire to discern the voice of the Lord, obey it, and use your own voice boldly in return. I know firsthand what it’s like to lose your voice—sometimes literally, often spiritually—but I’ve also experienced the beauty of reclaiming it.

Finding Your Voice Again

Our twin grandsons have taught me a lot about voices. One found his voice early—babbling, mimicking, filling the room with sound. The other had a harder start. As a preemie on a ventilator, his cries were silent at first. You could see the pain, but no sound would come. Eventually, slowly, his little voice emerged. I’ll never forget hearing that first audible cry—it was like music to my ears. Every time I held him, I prophesied over him: You have a voice, and you will use it for God’s glory.

And I believe God does the same with us. He watches and waits, celebrating when we dare to lift our voices in faith.

But our voices don’t disappear overnight. It’s often subtle—the result of shame, fear, criticism, trauma, or even bad theology. The enemy doesn’t usually steal your voice in one fell swoop. Instead, it’s the small compromises, the little foxes that spoil the vine. One painful word. One bad encounter. One unanswered prayer. And suddenly, we’re quiet.

When Fear Takes Over

I’ve sung in church since I could talk. But by the time I was a teenager, something shifted. My voice cracked, then shook, and then stayed that way. When I would get up to sing a shaky vibrato thing would start and I could stop it once it started. What once came naturally now came with fear. I stopped singing solos altogether.

For years, the only way I could sing freely again was with “liquid courage”—a drink in hand, karaoke mic in the other. I even won a contest once. But when I got serious about God in my twenties, He began healing that part of me.

One day, I was asked to sing “Wonderful, Merciful Savior” at church. I prayed like never before, and as I opened my mouth, something shifted. I wasn’t performing—I was worshipping. I wasn’t singing for people—I was singing to the Lord. That day marked a turning point.

Over the last 19 years on our church’s worship team, my voice has been tested, refined, and strengthened. I’ve seen team members come and go, spiritual attacks, glory-filled moments, and times I wanted to quit. But each time I stuck with it, God proved faithful.

Zechariah & Mary: Two Responses to God’s Voice

In Luke 1, we see two contrasting responses to God’s word.

Zechariah, a priest, was silenced for his unbelief when the angel announced that his barren wife would have a child. Mary, a teenager, responded with childlike faith: “Let it be to me according to your word.”

One doubted and lost his voice. The other believed and birthed the Savior of the world.

I’ve been both. I’ve doubted. I’ve let fear win. But I’ve also dared to believe again—and found my voice in the process.

Lies That Silence Us

The enemy knows how powerful your voice is—so he lies to keep you quiet.

When someone publicly accused me of spreading dangerous teaching just because I had attended a Bethel creative conference, I spiraled. I forgot the healing and hope I’d seen, and instead believed I wasn’t qualified to lead anything. Silenced again.

Another time, a pastor introduced me as “highly prophetic,” and I immediately heard the enemy whisper, “You mean highly pathetic.” That lie stuck for a long time.

Becoming a pastor’s wife brought new challenges. I stopped writing almost overnight—right when my platform was growing and doors were opening. Why? Because I believed I had to be extra cautious now. That I couldn’t share freely without being judged. Silenced again.

Even theological debates about whether women can preach started to weigh me down. Though I’ve always known the truth—women can preach—the enemy tried to twist it into another excuse to stay silent. But if women were good enough to carry the living Word in their wombs, surely we can carry and proclaim the written Word with our mouths.

The Power of Obedience

Scripture says over and over again: Because you obeyed My voice… or Because you did not heed My voice…

God is asking: Can I trust you to speak when I give you a word? Will you be like Esther, who used her voice to save a nation? Or like Nehemiah, who faced ridicule but kept building? Or like the woman at the well, who couldn’t keep her mouth shut about what Jesus had done?

Your voice matters. Not when it’s perfect. Not when it’s polished. But when it’s obedient.

Why Now?

So why am I finally stepping into boldness? Why now?

Because I’m the most healed version of myself I’ve ever been. Because I’ve faced heartbreak, betrayal, and disappointment—and come out stronger. Because I’ve learned how to silence the enemy faster, forgive faster, and love deeper. Because I’ve stopped partnering with shame and started partnering with purpose.

Because the world is getting darker—and God needs every one of His sons and daughters proclaiming the truth. We’re not called to be silent spectators. We’re called to be bold witnesses.

Your Turn

If you’ve lost your voice, I want to tell you: it’s not gone forever. It can be recovered. Redeemed. Restored.

Cry out to God. Prophesy over yourself. Sing even if your voice shakes. Speak even if your hands tremble. Write even if you don’t know who will read it.

Because your voice carries power. It carries truth. And God wants to use it for His glory.