My dad wasn’t a man of many words. He spoke when it mattered, and when he did, his words carried weight. But often, his silence taught me just as much.

For over thirty years of my life, I watched him closely. We spoke almost every day—sometimes the calls were filled with words, other times with quiet pauses. Yet even in silence, I knew what he meant. His life spoke. His actions carried lessons that words alone could never hold.

That way of learning wasn’t limited to home. It was reinforced at church. We didn’t have a formal Bible training school for workers or teachers. What we had was ‘Sunday school’—open to everyone, where we studied the lesson of the week at home and came together to discuss it on Sunday. Much of the ministry was learned in an observational and almost implicit way. You paid attention to how services were run, how leaders carried themselves, how things flowed. And when God called you into His service as a worker, you stepped into the role by doing as you had seen others do.

Even my work as a scientist has echoed the same truth. My research as a biologist is built on observation—watching how living things respond, studying patterns, and noticing details others might miss. Sometimes, the most valuable insights aren’t found through complicated tests but in what you observe when you pay close attention.

All of this reminds me of Paul’s words: “Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ” (1 Corinthians 11:1 KJV). So much of discipleship isn’t about what is said but what is lived. Sometimes the greatest ministry is not behind a pulpit, but in daily life. A life that quietly but consistently points upward.

Here’s the thing: people are always watching. Our children, friends, and coworkers are learning not just from what we say but from what we do. Our silence, responses, standards, and habits are lessons that shape others, whether we realize it or not. Someone once said, “In our day, people don’t always read the Bible—they read us.” And for those of us who profess to be Christians, our lives may be the only “gospel” some will ever encounter.

Looking back, I realized I learned more by watching my dad than by listening to him. He never made noise about the way he lived, but he left an indelible impression that continues to shape me. The good side of this is it’s made me disciplined and thoughtful. The harder side is it sometimes makes me expect standards that not everyone has been taught to reach.

Sometimes people say my words come from a deep place. I smile at that, because perhaps it’s true — and perhaps it’s something I got from my dad: that sense of depth that comes less from talking much, and more from living deeply. One of the greatest gifts he left me wasn’t a long list of lessons he sat down to teach: it was a life lived in front of me. A life that showed me you don’t always need many words for something to stick.

Future generations are being formed right now, not just by our words but by our lived example.

So I ask myself often: what story is my life telling, even when I’m not speaking? Maybe it’s a question worth asking yourself, too.

Because the deepest lessons are often not spoken. They are lived.

Categories: My Devotionals, My lifestyle

Tags: Christian, Christian Living, Christianity, Devotional, discipleship, Faith, Intentional living, Learning, learning without words, Life lessons, Lifestyle, power of observation, Reflections, silent lessons