Resting in God’s embrace
So many today want it all: wealth, position, power, houses, cars, family, friends, fashion, freedom, and on and on. Which only leaves them pulled every which way. True fulfillment comes in learning to let go.
A song of ascents. A David psalm.
1 My heart isn’t proud, YHWH
nor are my eyes haughty.
I’m not grasping at personal greatness
or clutching at things beyond my reach.
2 I’ve calmed and quieted my soul
like a baby nursing sweetly at its mother’s breast
lulled by the sound of her heartbeat
lost in the love in her eyes.
3 Wait on YHWH, Israel!
Hope in him now and always.
Having fled in terror from Goliath, everyone in Saul’s army was baffled by little David’s unflinching confidence in God. Everyone except David’s brothers, who were too busy berating him for playing the big shot. But David’s ambitions were far different from theirs. Ignorant of the sweet simplicity he’d found in God’s embrace, his brothers didn’t get it: he was wide open to whatever God wanted and nothing else mattered. What else explains his unearthly calm?
When used of babies, the word I’ve paraphrased as “nursing sweetly” (gāmal) usually means “weaned.” But since it carries the sense of being fully satisfied, Nancy deClaissé-Walford translates it “sated,” meaning that the infant is contentedly nursing, looking up at its mother with those dreamy eyes that say, “How could life possibly get any better?” This seems more likely here than “weaned.”
I imagine David singing verses 1 and 2 to God after his brothers’ public tongue-lashing. Then while advancing on Goliath, sling in hand, he shouts verse 3 back over his shoulder to all the Israelites standing mesmerized behind him.
In any case, true fulfillment lies in surrendering to God’s will. As Jesus says, we must become like little children. Obedience may be straightforward. But faith’s letting go seldom is since accepting God’s dreams for us involves accepting his means to them too. That involves accepting our lot, fully embracing what he wants us to do, and actively waiting for him to show up—usually without knowing how it will all turn out. While God’s dreams for us will cost us everything, they’ll be good with his goodness. And for all its challenges, waiting on God is still as simple as a baby’s resting in its mother’s arms.
Jewish pilgrims who returned from exile only to find their land overrun by threatening enemies must have found this image encouraging: with God as my everything, how could I lack anything?
Prayer:
Above the din of the world, Lord, your still small voice calls me to freedom and simplicity. All that I long for is found in your arms. Yet I so easily fear, lest the world leave me behind. Center me in you, God, that in your pure and peaceful wisdom, I may learn your gentleness, joy, and rest. Amen.
In your free moments today, meditate on these words:
I’ve calmed and quieted my soul
like a baby nursing sweetly at its mother’s breast
lulled by the sound of her heartbeat
lost in the love in her eyes.