Lord, my heart is not proud, my eyes are not haughty. I do not get involved with things too great or too wondrous for me. Instead, I have calmed and quieted my soul like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is like a weaned child. O Israel, put your hope in the Lord, both now and forever. Psalm 131
It recently struck me while spending time with this Psalm that for much of my life, I may have been misreading or misunderstanding it – or simply imagining what I thought it should be saying.
The Shift from “Nursing” to “Weaned”
We often condition ourselves to think of reliance upon God purely in terms of constantly asking or demanding from Him. Because of this, it is easy to read Psalm 131 and picture a nursing child, completely dependent on its mother for immediate food. But the text explicitly says weaned.
What is a weaned child like? A weaned child doesn’t approach its mother expecting to suckle or feed on demand. It comes to its mother simply to rest, to be still, and to be quiet because it has already been fed.
When we first come to faith, we often act like nursing children. We expect God to give us everything instantly. We feel a need, and we demand immediate satisfaction, seeking the “breastmilk” of faith. But as we grow into spiritual maturity, we are called to become like weaned children. We should be regularly feeding on Jesus and the Scriptures, ready for a relationship that goes deeper than just asking or demanding.
Moving Ourselves out of the Centre
“Lord, my heart is not proud, my eyes are not haughty.”
Spiritual maturity means understanding that the world does not revolve around us; we are not God. Nursing children are incredibly demanding—they cry and expect to be lifted immediately because, to them, they are the centre of the universe.
We cannot approach prayer that way, making it entirely about ourselves. God must be the centre. We pray to worship, to adore, and to recognize His living presence with us. True prayer is a conversation where we realize that God is present, and His presence ought to be noticeable. It is as much about what God is saying to us as what we are saying to Him.
✏️ Reflection Exercise 1:
Grab a notebook or a piece of paper. Write down a few words or sentences forming a prayer in your head right now. Look at what you’ve written: What makes this prayer truly about God rather than about you?
- Is it structured like a genuine, two-way conversation?
- Is there space where you are actively listening to what God might be saying to you, rather than just speaking to Him? Write down any thoughts or promptings you feel He is placing on your heart.
Admitting Our Limitations
“I do not get involved with things too great or too wondrous for me.”
We live in a fast-paced, task-driven world, and our first instinct when we see trouble in our communities, families, or the wider world is to try and fix it. We feel like we must find an answer.
In reality, much of what happens around us is entirely beyond our control or understanding. Trying to fix everything ourselves isn’t always helpful; sometimes, the most faithful thing we can do is admit our limitations. We are not the saviours of the world—that position is already taken.
When we realize we can’t fix things, our backup plan is usually to tell God how He should fix them. “Lord, do this and that, and everything will be grand.” This is still the response of a demanding child.
✏️ Reflection Exercise 2:
What are the heavy burdens, stressors, or unresolved situations currently occupying your mind? Write those specific things down plainly.
Once they are on paper, look at them and consciously hand them over by praying: “Lord, these things are beyond my control and my understanding, so I am choosing to leave them entirely with you.”
Learning to Quiet the Soul
“Instead, I have calmed and quieted my soul…”
The Psalmist challenges us to take responsibility for our own peace: to simply be quiet, be still, and allow God to be God.
We are invited to wait on the Lord and rest in Him. Imagine simply curling up on the sofa with Him, allowing His love to surround you, and letting Him minister to your soul. This type of prayer is quiet, peaceful, and profoundly restful. It is entirely okay to find a comfortable spot, hand over the things that bother you, and give God the space to heal you. It is even okay to find such rest in the Lord that you fall asleep, trusting Him to work while you rest (just as He cared for Elijah in 1 Kings 19:5-8).
A Mature Hope
“O Israel, put your hope in the Lord, both now and forever.”
Choosing to hope and wait in the Lord is a conscious decision. It requires us to actively let go of our endless goal-setting, action plans, and frantic activity so that we can be guided by Him instead.
While there is absolutely a vital time for fervent prayer and intercession, we must also build restful, peaceful prayer into our spiritual routines. Could a lack of this stillness be the reason so many of us feel tired, burnt out, or spiritually dry?
✏️ Reflection Exercise 3:
Look at your upcoming week. Commit to one specific day and time in your calendar when you will intentionally practice this restful, peaceful prayer.
Write it down as a firm appointment with God. How will you protect this time from distractions so you can simply sit, step away from demands, and allow Him to minister to you?
Lord, my heart is not proud, my eyes are not haughty. I do not get involved with things too great or too wondrous for me. Instead, I have calmed and quieted my soul like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is like a weaned child. O Israel, put your hope in the Lord, both now and forever. Psalm 131