When we don't have the words

Thoughts on silence, solitude, and being with God

The following essay is the final reflection for our June focus on the spiritual practice of Solitude. Read more here about our exploration of the spiritual disciplines in 2025 through creative and reflective writing.

Dear Reader,

I wrote my latest book, Mid-Faith Crisis, with my friend Jason Hague. In this section, Jason remembers a time at dinner with his son Jack, who is non-verbal. Through this memory, we explore ways that silence and solitude can be forms of prayer, even (surprisingly!) a way to be with God. We're so excited to share this excerpt with you, and pray it will encourage you in your own practice of solitude. Mid Faith Crisis released June 3rd, 2025.

-Catherine McNiel, Redbud

For me (Jason) prayer was always about words. A teacher once told me that language was God’s greatest gift to us because language was the foundation of relationships. Without language, how can you know a person? That idea stuck with me. Maybe that’s why Jack’s diagnosis hit me as hard as it did.

Jack is my third child, my oldest son. He hit most of his developmental markers until he was two, but then something changed. His vocabulary disappeared. He stopped making eye contact. He began wandering around the house ignoring us, flapping spatulas in front of his face. We figured out what it was before the diagnosis came, but seeing the word on paper hit me hard: autism. It soon became clear that his was the kind of autism in which words would be rare.

Of course, this led me to prayer. Jack would grow up in a world that didn’t understand him, and he would deal with a host of comorbid conditions that would increase the difficulty of his life: obsessive compulsive disorder, seizures, and raging
anxiety. So I prayed a lot.

The thing we prayed for most was the gift of language. How could we know our son if we couldn’t converse with him? Isn’t language the foundation of relationship?

It didn’t occur to me then what an odd bargain I was trying to strike, using words to beg for words. And that’s the problem with viewing prayer primarily—or exclusively—as convincing God to act. Prayer can become all about how persuasive we can be at getting God to do what we want.

God didn’t answer my prayers anyway. By the time I reached forty, Jack was a teenager, still functionally nonverbal, still wrestling with the same comorbid conditions he’d always had.

Over the years, Jack found ways to circumvent his lack of language. In lieu of words, he used gestures, movie quotes, a bit of sign language, and a bit of texting.

It was never predictable. His efforts came and went, and we learned not to put too much hope in any medium of communication. At seventeen years old, he wasn’t using any language with regularity.

Still, we found ways to connect. One afternoon, I (Jason) took him to a restaurant called Buffalo Wild Wings. He didn’t tell me what he wanted to eat or drink, but he didn’t need to. I’m his dad. I know he’s too young for an IPA, and he won’t eat chicken wings, but boy does he love french fries and lemon-lime soda. So that’s what I ordered. I didn’t fill our time with words, which can be so frustrating for him. Why would I spoil it? He had his music, his big blue headphones, and his favorite laminated picture that he carries around with him everywhere. More than that, he had his dad.

For the next hour, we sat together sharing fries in relative silence. To an outsider, it probably looked like we were ignoring one another. But that’s so far from the truth. We were sharing a quiet moment. We were together.

This is how I’m learning to embrace prayer now. Like Jack, I run out of words, and sometimes find them frustrating. What do you say when your heart is broken? How many different ways can I describe the same pain, the same worries, the same unmet requests? Is that even what God wants from our time together, for me to fill every moment with the sound of my own voice? Is that even what I want?

No. I have come to believe my old teacher was wrong about the foundation of relationships. Language is one of God’s greatest gifts, to be sure. But there’s something else that comes first: presence. Presence comes before language. That’s true with our own children, and it’s true with God. Presence is the foundation of our relationship and the true essence of prayer.

Adapted from Mid-Faith Crisis by Catherine McNiel and Jason Hague. ©2024 by Catherine McNiel and Jason Hague. Used by permission of InterVarsity Press. www.ivpress.com.

---

What people are saying about Mid-Faith Crisis: Finding a Path Through Doubt, Disillusionment, and Dead Ends by Catherine McNiel and Jason Hague

"Chaplain McNiel (Fearing Bravely) and pastor Hague (Aching Joy) deliver an approachable guide to tackling crises of faith. They trace how even strong religious identities can be dismantled by life challenges or new perspectives, resulting in a 'death of faith' that leaves believers feeling lost and isolated. Arguing that this uncomfortable stage can be a productive period in one’s spiritual journey, the authors unpack how readers can harness feelings of betrayal to seek new ‘heroes of faith’―often those quietly doing good away from the spotlight―and use their doubts to create a more honest, intimate relationship with God." – Publishers Weekly Review, February 2025

"Relevant and practical in a time of church leader scandals and faith deconstruction, this book offers an empathy-filled way forward." – Library Journal Review, May 2025

“If you grew up in church with a vibrant faith but have found yourself wounded, disillusioned, or in a mid-faith crisis as an adult, this book is for you. Catherine McNiel and Jason Hague are experienced, wise, and compassionate guides who will give you confidence and hope. Mid-Faith Crisis is full of helpful personal stories, spiritual exercises, and reflections to help you find your spiritual footing again.” - Matt Mikalatos, author of God with Us and Imaginary Jesus

"Mid-Faith Crisis is that rare blend of prophetic, pastoral, funny and poignant, truly a 'for such a time as this' kind of book. Catherine McNiel and Jason Hague, with unromanticized vulnerability and theological precision, invite the doubter, the deconstructionist, the disillusioned, and the deeply seasoned Christian into a faith that can exist both after and within crisis. For anyone who has been hurt by but still longs to find a way to love this wild thing called the church, and for anyone who wants to follow Jesus without the tired and cliched trappings, you'll find yourself seen, known, and led in these pages." - Aubrey Sampson, teaching pastor, podcast host, and author of What We Find in the Dark and The Louder Song

---

---

P.S. Know someone who might be encouraged by this post or interested in our upcoming webinars? Forward this to them today!