I Have Calmed and Quieted Myself
The lights are out, and I sit in the rocking chair holding my sixteen-month-old, singing softly to her and rocking slowly in the rocking chair.
I close my eyes and breathe. It is quiet, except for the sound of the noise machine and air conditioning running. The sun peers just a little around the door, but it is just the right atmosphere to coax her to sleep.
As I hum, I look down at her face. The pacifier is in her mouth and her blankie by her face. She looks so cozy there all snuggled up to me.
And all of a sudden, it is as if time stands still.
I can't explain it, but I never get tired of this moment. It is magical. It rights all wrongs in the day. The morning could have been chaotic and messy, but it doesn't take away from this moment. Instead, this moment seems to fix it.
It was special when she was a baby, but as she grows and becomes more inquisitive and starts exploring more and more and finding out that she can do much on her own, these moments are a rare gem. Especially now that she is getting to an age where any one of them could be the last one.
Something in me urges me to stop thinking about everything else and take it in. I look down at her sleeping face and ponder afresh what the meaning of something so special could be.
I think God wants to whisper His secrets to me in those moments. Secrets about Himself that hardly anyone understands.
...
"Lord, my heart is not proud," the psalmist said in Psalm 131, "my eyes are not haughty." He continues, "I don't concern myself with matters too great or too awesome for me to grasp."
Well, David, if you're not concerning yourself with great matters, then what are you doing?
"Instead," he answers as if reading our minds, "I have calmed and quieted myself, like a weaned child who no longer cries for its mother's milk. Yes, like a weaned child is my soul within me."
David must have watched a little child settle down in his mother's arms, not needing anything but her to soothe him after a day of woes.
As adults, it's much harder to get to this place of letting go of our cares as we rest in the arms of God, isn't it?
We have so many that pile up on a regular basis.
And what about those great matters that are too awesome to grasp?
Questions, perplexing emotions, confusion and fog often crowd our minds and it is hard to get to this place of completely relaxing in His grip.
But what if this is where He wants us? What if He wants us at complete rest in His embrace?
...
Often, perplexing and painful circumstances run on parallel tracks with the voice of condemnation.
He who is delt a deep wound by another is often plagued not only by the questions of "Why did this happen to me?" but also, "What did I do wrong?"
We ache and bleed, but we are also ashamed. And these two often pit themselves against each other.
Ever noticed that?
Our hurt should drive us to Jesus, but shame pushes us into the shadows to hide.
If it's not hurt, it's anxiety or fear or any other thing that makes us feel weak and vulnerable and in need of our Savior.
We start to hope He might help us, but when shame speaks, we are driven into isolation.
And yet, it is He who "forgives all our sins and heals all our diseases." (Psalm 103:3)
...
I have found that questions and emotions can spin an intricate web into the pathway of my life that makes it difficult to picture moving forward.
I fall for the lie that, in order to move on, I must unwind the web and wrap it neatly in a bundle. But while I attempt this, my fingers get stuck to the web, and I quickly get more entangled than I ever would have been if I hadn't bothered with it in the first place.
One question can be replaced by a more perplexing question, until the web is so intricate that the lines can't even be seen anymore.
And then panic and hopelessness sets in. Will I ever have peace again? Will I ever know lasting joy? What do I do to fix this?
Have you been here? I know I'm painting it so vividly here, but often it is so subtle we don't even know it's happening.
What we don't realize is that, whether by the disease of pain, bitterness, anxiety, fear, or some other malady, or by the isolation of condemnation and shame, the enemy who spun that web only has one goal -and that is to keep us from the One who heals our diseases and forgives all our sins.
We are blinded by pain and confusion, and isolated by shame and condemnation, but if we were to look through the eyes of faith, what we would see would crush the walls of isolation and remove the fog of blindness.
...
Child of God, there stands One before you who is filled with compassion, who knows all, who understands you better than you understand yourself. He knows what it is to live in this fallen world. He lived here too, subjected to the same temptations you face.
Oh, He weeps with you over your pain. He stays with you in your fog. He doesn't think you're crazy for having so much confusion.
Instead, He is with you.
In every way you would wish someone to be with you, fully present, fully understanding, and also, fully capable of helping you.
Condemnation is not His voice.
He died to crush that voice once and for all in your life. You don't have to listen to it anymore.
Instead, you can hear His tender voice whisper assurance of love and acceptance, for He is not ashamed of you. His blood has washed away all your sin -past, present and future.
But perhaps you can't see Him because you still want to answer your questions for yourself.
Perhaps your eyes won't look in His direction simply because they are fixated on figuring out the web of confusion before you and untangling the mixed-up emotions in your soul.
But you must make a choice, like the psalmist, to humble yourself and let go of this obsession.
"Lord," you can pray like he did, "my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty."
In other words, I'm choosing to turn my back on pride. Pride is what is motivating me to try to figure it all out myself, so I will have nothing to do with it now. Besides, I can't figure it out anyways.
"I don't concern myself with matters too great or too awesome for me to grasp," he continued.
In other words, I'm choosing to put those questions on the table. Since I can't figure it out, I won't try. If God wants to tell me, He will. If God wants to make it clear for me, He will. But otherwise, I'm giving up on ever knowing the answers and figuring it out.
"Instead, I have calmed and quieted myself," he goes on.
Oh, my friend... take a deep breath and look up into His face now. Look at Him. His arms are open to you.
Relax in His grip. He is holding you, brokenness and all.
"Like a weaned child is my soul within me," he said.
Like my little 16-month-old, we can let go of our cares, one by one, and receive His rest.
We can look up into His face, trusting and childlike, knowing He holds not only us, but our circumstances and all that perplexes us in His more than capable hands.
...
I have often looked at my children wishing I didn't have a care in the world like them.
But what if we could be like children with our heavenly Father?
What if we could rush into His arms and unburden our hearts?
What if He would just hold us while we weep and sob if we need to over the brokenness of our own hearts, as well as the fallenness of the world around us?
What if He would carry us when we couldn't walk anymore from utter exhaustion?
What if He would give us renewed strength to face each day with a smile on our face and a skip in our step simply because our cares are His cares?
Read these verses and see if your heart doesn't melt from the love that God has for you.
"The Lord is like a Father to His children, tender and compassionate to those who fear Him. For He knows how weak we are; He remembers we are only dust." (Psalm 103:14)
"To all who mourn..., He will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair..." (Isaiah 61:3)
"Give all your worries and cares to God, for He cares about you." (1 Peter 5:7)
"Come to Me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28)
"He will feed His flock like a Shepherd. He will carry the lambs in His arms, holding them close to His heart..." (Isaiah 40:11)
Oh friend, can you let Him love you?
Can you rest in the simple fact that He can handle every single question and problem you face?
Can you take the place of child and let Him be Father for you?
He wants to carry you. He wants you to be completely relaxed in His grip. It does His heart good, for you were not made to carry burdens without Him.
Instead, you were just simply made for Him. So just breathe and let Him do the heavy lifting.
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