My heart is not proud, LORD, my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me.
But I have calmed and quieted myself, I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.
Israel, put your hope in the Lord both now and forevermore.
Psalm 131
I’ve been that mom before - the one crying uncontrollably for no reason apparent to anybody but herself. 😂😭 (Please tell me I’m not alone in this…) For me, it was the releasing of the rocking chair - the one in which I nursed my first baby - in the process of weaning her. I’m going to blame my hysterical weeping on the hormones and the fact that I was five months pregnant with my second. 😉 (“The hormones” are usually a good excuse when needed.)
Weaning can be a painful process. It can be emotional, uncomfortable, and even unwanted. But it is a non-negotiable to reach a new level of maturity - physically, emotionally, and in every sense. It may not be desired, but it is required.
And we, as believers, must also undergo a weaning process as we mature in Christ. So often we are like a baby asking for “more” (more things, more people, more mountaintop moments) while God is there offering Himself. We love God for what He gives us rather than loving Him for who He is. And just as a baby will starve if she tries to survive on breastmilk forever, so will we starve spiritually if we fail to ever look up from God’s hand (what He provides) to His face (His presence). If we remain fixated on the gifts rather than the Giver, we will remain spiritual infants forever - shallow and self-indulgent.
So although weaning is hard, it’s for our good. It’s for our sanctification, health, maturity, and fruitfulness. Weaning paves the way for peace, contentment, rest, and new depths of intimacy with God that could come no other way.
And here’s where we turn to Psalm 131, which was called by Charles Spurgeon, “...one of the shortest psalms to read, but one of the longest to learn.” Because it’s our human nature to do the opposite of all that this psalm describes: to proudly desire all we see; to concern ourselves with all of the things; to refuse to be calm, quiet and content; and to put our hope in this world. How we need Jesus to wean us from these tendencies and usher us into a Psalm 131 type of existence: true contentment in Him.
In the day when this psalm was written, weaning probably would’ve occurred around the age of three. You can just hear the protests and imagine the tantrums that took place - God bless those mamas (not to say anything about when you should wean your baby…but man, three-nagers can be tough to take on when they know what they want).
And don’t we respond just the same way to weaning?
We grasp so tightly to our comforts, it’s almost painful when God pries them from our fingers. We kick and scream when our idols are stripped from us and our crutches are exposed. We struggle against God and others. We are no different from the Israelites who got downright MEAN when they wanted their meat back (Exodus 16:1-3). They grumbled about their lack even as God provided faithfully for them morning by morning, raining down manna from heaven. God was weaning them from worldly things in the wilderness, and it was far from easy for them.
I’ve found motherhood to be similar to what the Israelites experienced - this wilderness weaning process, stripping me of sleep, selfishness, free time, physical comforts…everything I was accustomed to in my pre-motherhood days. I’ve been weaned right alongside each of my babies, and even in my griping, He’s never failed to provide the manna I need for each day.
Although it’s difficult, weaning is a kindness - it’s the whisper of our wise God: “Look up here at my eyes.” It’s what turns us to the Word instead of the world; the Father instead of the futile.
It’s what reminds us: cling to Jesus tightly, hold everything else lightly.
Because that IS the ultimate goal of weaning: that our hope would be in Jesus alone (Psalm 131:3). Anything that hinders our hope from hurtling straight to Jesus…we need to be weaned from it. No matter how good that thing might be (a relationship, a healthy habit, abundance of any form)… something needs to change if we are grasping that thing more tightly than Jesus.
And here’s the situation in which we find ourselves in 2024: we have to contend for contentment - in this world of chaos and comforts and distractions, we will never stumble upon a Psalm 131 life by accident. This contentment has to be cultivated as we surrender our ways and wills and allow God to wean us.
We must relinquish control instead of resisting - calming and quieting ourselves instead of asking countless questions. He’s reminding us: we’ll always be His children. He’s inviting us: we’ll never outgrow His lap or His love. He’s not handing us a coupon to contentment with an upcoming expiration date, but rather lifetime access to our Abba Father and all He has to offer.
Why do we keep chasing and grasping and asking for more when He just wants us to come to Him? Why do we put our hope in products and promotions and podcasts all while He’s inviting us to climb onto His lap?
Weaning makes way for what is best: connection and contentment (instead of consumption). God wants to give you soul manna - the bread of life. He wants you to be filled and satisfied by Him now and forever (John 6:47-51). May He give you the grace to undergo this weaning process that you might treasure His face all the more in your season.
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