How to become a spiritual grown-up
It’s been a minute since I sat in my mother or father’s lap.
Heck, it’s been a minute since my kids have sat in my lap. (I sure miss those little people; all of mine are over 21 now!)
What on earth does this have to do with anything?
Fair question. Here’s the answer:
I’ve been reading through the Psalms this year. Mostly I read them in order but I sometimes skip around. When I landed on Psalm 131 recently, it took three times through for me to recognize an important—but easy to overlook—word.
It’s just three verses:
1 O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.
2 But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child is my soul within me.3 O Israel, hope in the Lord
Psalm 131:1–3 ESV
from this time forth and forevermore.
David is singing to God. He’s likely been accused by Saul of being prideful and clambering for the throne (something to which he’ll one day ascend according to God’s timing and plans, not his own). Whether or not he countered that notion in a conversation with Saul and company, we see him take the pain of the accusation to his God. He asserts that he’s not “aiming” for things too lofty but rather is contented.
The picture of that contentment is what caught my attention: he likens it to the sense of calm and quiet that a weaned child has with its mother.
A weaned child.
The picture David is painting for us is not the kind of tender moment we think of when we envision a baby encircled in its mother’s arms to nurse. Instead, he’s describing the security that even a weaned child feels when drawn near to a loving parent—perhaps sitting in mom or dad’s lap.
The significance of the words lies in recognizing our propensity for independence. Especially as Americans who prize self-sufficiency, we (subconsciously or consciously) like to think we’ve outgrown the most fragile, dependent part of our lives.
But David purposefully plants himself right back in his Father’s lap.
He recognizes that only there is he calmed and quieted. Only there does he withstand the accusations of the world around him in peace.
It’s true for us, too, friends.
When we’re feeling unjustly accused, overlooked, maligned, marginalized, irrelevant or ostracized, we must find our way back to God’s lap.
When we find ourselves disquieted or agitated, it’s a signal that we’ve strayed from the place of assurance, acceptance, and understanding… God’s lap.
Not because we haven’t grown or matured at all. We have. (And, with His help, will continue to.)
Rather our willingness to return to the Father in humble dependence, like a weaned child, is actually the very mark of spiritual maturity.