What do you do when the silence feels like a question?

It’s just before service, 7:45 a.m., and the church is empty except for me. The pews are still warm from yesterday’s last prayer. I keep thinking about that headline—boys building AI girlfriends—and wondering if we’re all just trying to fill the quiet with something that won’t leave. But what if the silence isn’t empty? What if it’s waiting for us to learn how to listen?