What If Nothing Happening Was a Spiritual Alarm Bell?

Giving boredom the benefit of the doubt.

I can’t remember the last time I let myself be bored.

Like, properly bored… nothing to do, nowhere to look, nobody to message.

Even standing in a thirty-second queue now feels like an invitation to check my phone. Waiting for the kettle to boil, standing in a lift, sitting on the loo. I’ve even caught my brain telling me to reach for my phone while YouTube adverts are playing, before realising I’m already holding it. It’s the digital equivalent of wandering round the house looking for your glasses while they’re on your head.

I used to think being bored - with all its panic-inducing restlessness - was something to avoid; I’m now starting to wonder whether it’s something of a lost art.

I’m about to start observing a weekly Sabbath. Part of the plan is putting my phone in a box for a day - and if I’m honest, I already know the first hour is going to feel uncomfortable. My hand will instinctively reach for a device that isn’t there. I’ll probably feel oddly restless, even though nothing is actually wrong.

That’s what made me think: what if boredom is an alarm bell? The kind of alarm that goes off because you’ve been ignoring something important. I can’t help wondering whether our instinctive urge to drown it out is more than just habit. If there really is a spiritual battle for our attention, then perhaps every distraction is another press of the snooze button, delaying the moment we finally stop long enough to hear God calling.

Maybe boredom is life’s way of saying, “Slow down for a minute.”

Think.

Pray.

Reflect.

Notice.

Sit with your own thoughts for long enough to hear them… and maybe hear God as well.

The Bible is full of people meeting God away from the noise. In deserts, on mountains, during long walks, on fishing boats, in places where there wasn’t much else competing for their attention.

I’m not saying God only speaks in silence, but I am starting to become convinced that silence gives us a better chance of listening. Maybe we’ve become so good at filling every empty moment that we’ve stopped asking whether those empty moments might actually have a purpose.

As an experiment, maybe the next time boredom turns up, resist the urge to dismiss it straight away. Leave your phone where it is for a minute and just sit with it. See where your mind goes. It might lead nowhere. Or it might lead to a conversation, a memory, a prayer, or a question you’ve been too busy to hear.

Either way, I’m beginning to wonder whether boredom has been knocking on the door for years and we’ve just become very good at pretending nobody’s home.