My Greatest Ambition
- Andrea Anderson Polk
- Sep 21
- 5 min read
Updated: Sep 22
Leading a Quiet Life in a Noisy World

As you know, I often write about redefining success. I came across this striking quote earlier this week and wanted to share it with you. It beautifully captures my life mantra:
“We urge you, brothers and sisters…to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life.”
(1 Thessalonians 4:11)
My definition of success has narrowed down to a quiet life—not a famous life, not a be-the-best life, not a stressed life.
By quiet, I mean intentional, inspiring, and impactful—not driven by ego, pride, or fear, but lived each day with peace and purpose.
I’m talking about soul quiet—the kind that allows me to be an ambitious woman of faith, to pursue my dreams, and to savor the ones I’m already living, all from a place of quiet that is fiercely confident and wholly authentic.
It takes deep inner work to attain, and it doesn’t necessarily require drastic changes like resignation or demotion—though sometimes it might. More often, it’s about shifting your perspective.
The truth is, you can be busy—with motherhood, ministry, or business—and still quiet, rooted in an inner abiding that keeps your soul at rest.
The Cost of Quiet
Sometimes in life, you have to let go of things you love to make room for what you love more. Peace and quiet always come with a cost—often requiring surrender and sacrifice.
For me, it meant sacrificing who I might have become if I’d stayed on the path of achievement-driven ambition. Even now, there are rare moments when I catch myself wondering, shouldn’t I be doing…?
But never at the cost of my soul.
I had to make peace with who I am and surrender who I’m not. That meant letting go of the envy that fueled comparison, the fantasy that I could do it all, and the insatiable “more monster”—the voice that says, I’ll be happy when… instead of being happy now.
Because here’s the truth:
We.
Can’t.
Do.
It.
All.
I used to look at people who dominated their industry, became number one, built empires, and I would often think to myself, I want that life. But over time, I realized I don’t actually want the lifestyle that comes with it.
I could be the best—and still lose myself.
As impressive as those accomplishments may be, they’re not worth the cost.
So… I surrendered the whole pursuit of fame.
There’s a cost to a quiet life, true. But what goes are only the harmful things—image, status, bragging rights, all the empty ego stuff. Things I have no desire to ever return to.
The cost of a quiet life is high, but the cost of a chronically stressed, frantic, fast-paced existence is even higher.
Now, I truly live.
Quiet Life = Quiet Time
My ambition to lead a quiet life requires quiet time. My mind is like a game of Whack-A-Mole—I uproot one lie, and another pops up in its place. If I don’t address them and return to myself, they’ll get the best of me.
Without it, the quiet is replaced by the noise of self-doubt, comparisonitis, and eventually—inner turmoil.
Been there. Done that.
I practice quiet time—every single day.
I wouldn’t miss it for the world. No matter how early I have to wake up, I carve out time—with matcha tea, my Bible, my gratitude journal, and a cozy blanket.
I ask God to move in my life. I confess my mess-ups, my needs, my aches. Sometimes I just sit—alone, in the quiet—with God and my soul.
I start to feel—not just joy and gratitude, but also sadness, doubt, anger, and anxiety. Usually, the difficult emotions come first. That’s just how it goes. I face the good, the bad, and the ugly in my own heart: my faith in God and my lack of it, my sense of His presence and of His absence, my fantasies and my realities, the lies I believe and the truth I return to. All of it is exposed in this quiet place.
I’m intentional with my mornings. I start slow because I need peace and perspective before diving into a busy day. Slow mornings are a non-negotiable priority—just as essential as eating, exercising, or even showering.
Your Quiet, Your Way
I can almost hear you saying…
“Well, I get the quiet time thing, but I work a demanding job I love, I pay the bills, and I just can’t make the time because…”
“Well, I get bored easily. I’m an extrovert, I like to stay busy, and I can’t sit still…”
“Well, I’m already following God’s will for my life. It’s my calling, and I’m ministering, studying, or training for…”
“Well, I have three little kids at home, and it’s just not doable right now. Maybe later, when…”
First, can you really afford not to? How’s your sleep? Your anxiety levels? Your stress, your marriage, your health? Are you truly happy and enjoying life?
Second, I don’t know your story. I’m not you. Obvious, yes—but it still needs to be said.
When a client asks me in a session, “So, what do you think my problem is?” I respond, “I have no idea. That’s not for me to say. Only you can know that.”
Or they might ask:
"Okay, so what am I supposed to do?”
(You’re not supposed to do anything here. The real question is, what do you want to do?)
Or, “What do you think?”
(I don’t know—because I’m not you.)
The same principle applies to your quiet time.
Only you know what quiet time looks like in your life. I’m sharing mine, but again—I’m not you.
All that to say—find your own quiet, your own way.
Before you dismiss the idea of pursuing a quiet life and slip back into the noise, look at the life of Jesus.
Jesus was rarely stressed or rushed. He stayed grounded and centered, even though He was constantly interrupted.
“But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” (Luke 5:16)
I love this. Jesus often withdrew. He frequently made space to be alone. He made it a regular habit to slip away and pray. Even though He was busy and had a full schedule, He still prioritized quiet time.
The Practice of Quiet
Here’s to the morning ahead: matcha tea, the chair by the window, the window by the tree. Time to breathe. To listen for the Spirit’s whisper. To pour out my heart—or simply sit and rest.
Maybe I’ll hear a word from God. Maybe I’ll just process my anger. Maybe my mind will settle—or ricochet from thought to thought. Either way, that’s fine.
I’ll be back at the same time tomorrow—starting my day in the quiet place so I can live a quiet life.
That is my greatest ambition.
*
P.S. For those wondering how I hear from God—it often begins with listening. My husband once told me about a moment he shared with Mother Teresa. Riding with her and a congressman, the man finally got up the courage to ask, “When you pray, what do you pray for?” After a long pause, she said, “I don’t pray for anything. I listen.”
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Need help dealing with perfectionism, addiction achievement, and how to let go and rest, or with any of these concepts above? Get in touch to request a therapy appointment.