I remember a time when my heart was restless, my mind filled with anxious thoughts about the future. I had spent years mapping out my life, believing that my hard work, my intellect, and my careful planning would bring me exactly where I wanted to be. I had prayed, yes, but often my prayers were more like instructions to God rather than surrendering to His will. I wanted Him to bless my plans, not disrupt them. And yet, in all my striving, I found no peace.
It wasn’t until I encountered the truth in 1 Peter 3:5 that my perspective began to shift. It says, “For in this manner, in former times, the holy women who trusted in God also adorned themselves, being submissive to their own husbands.” These faithful women of old didn’t find their strength in control or self-promotion. They weren’t trying to manipulate outcomes or prove their worth through external achievements. No, they adorned themselves with something far greater—”a gentle and quiet spirit.” And how did they do this? By putting their hope in God.
A gentle and quiet spirit is not a weak spirit. It is not timid or passive. It is a spirit that has found rest in the sovereignty of God. It is a heart that trusts that no matter what happens, God is in control. But I had to learn this lesson the hard way.
I recall a moment in ministry when I faced a major decision that would impact my entire future. I had an opportunity that, on paper, seemed perfect. The connections, the fire, the prestige—it all looked like an answer to prayer. I was eager, ready to step into what I assumed was God’s open door. But deep in my spirit, there was a stirring, a quiet whisper from the Holy Spirit telling me to wait.
Waiting was the last thing I wanted to do. I wrestled in prayer, pleading with God to remove the uncertainty, to give me a sign that this was the right path. But the more I sought clarity, the more unsettled I became. My natural instinct was to push forward, to make it work, to reason my way into believing that this was God’s best for me. But I had been here before—trusting in my own understanding and ignoring the gentle pull of the Spirit. And every time I did, I walked straight into frustration, disappointment, and unnecessary hardship.
So for once, I stopped striving. I let go of my need to control the outcome and simply waited in God’s presence. I meditated on His Word, I silenced the noise of my own ambitions, and I listened. And in that stillness, I found the peace that had eluded me for so long.
A gentle and quiet spirit is not about personality—it is about posture. It is about the posture of our hearts before God. Do we truly trust Him, or are we just saying that we do while secretly working behind the scenes to orchestrate our own desires? Do we believe that His will is better than ours, even when it doesn’t align with our plans?
Sarah, the wife of Abraham, is a perfect example of a woman who struggled with this. She had been promised a son, but years passed with no fulfillment of that promise. Instead of waiting on God, she took matters into her own hands, giving her servant Hagar to Abraham so she could bear a child for them. But the consequences of that decision brought turmoil into her household. Yet, despite her missteps, Sarah ultimately learned to put her hope in God. Hebrews 11:11 tells us that “by faith Sarah herself also received strength to conceive seed, and she bore a child when she was past the age, because she judged Him faithful who had promised.” She had to come to a place of trust, a place of surrender, a place where she adorned herself with a gentle and quiet spirit.
Putting our hope in God means laying down our need to manipulate outcomes. It means trusting Him when the path is unclear, when the answers are delayed, when the doors remain closed. It means allowing Him to shape our character in the waiting, rather than rushing ahead to create our own solutions.
I have learned that listening to the Holy Spirit is not just about hearing—it’s about obeying. The Spirit of God speaks to us in the quiet places, in the stillness of our souls. But if our hearts are loud with worry, if our minds are cluttered with our own agendas, we will miss His voice. It takes discipline to cultivate a gentle and quiet spirit, to surrender our anxieties and choose trust over control.
Even now, there are days when I am tempted to return to my old ways of striving. But each time I do, the Holy Spirit gently reminds me of the peace that comes when I let go. When I choose to believe that God is good, that His plans are perfect, that He is working even when I cannot see it. And so, I choose to adorn myself—not with outward accomplishments, not with titles or recognition, but with the quiet strength that comes from hoping in the Lord. If you find yourself weary from trying to figure everything out, if your soul is restless with the weight of your own expectations, I encourage you to do what the holy women of old did. Put your hope in God. Release your plans, your desires, your need for control, and trust that He is working all things together for your good. Listen for His voice, follow His leading, and let His peace settle upon you like a garment. For in His presence, you will find rest. And in His hands, you will never be misplaced.
