Show Don't Tell: Psalm 131

In a quiet moment in a sun-drenched nursery, I watched a mother hold her weaned child, a precious little one named Samuel. With the soft glow of afternoon light spilling through the window, I could see the gentle rise and fall of his tiny chest, the way he nestled against her shoulder, his small fingers loosely curled around the fabric of her shirt. Samuel, no longer demanding the milk that once sustained him, had entered a different kind of intimacy with his mother—one that spoke of trust, security, and unconditional love.

This is the image David captures in Psalm 131 when he writes, “But I have calmed and quieted myself; I am like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child I am content.” In these words, we are invited into a profound truth: that true peace comes not from striving or demanding but from resting in the arms of the One who loves us.

As I observed Samuel, his eyes fluttering in a peaceful slumber, I thought of the many ways we, like children, often grasp for control or understanding—like toddlers reaching for toys just out of reach, or adults yearning for validation in our busy lives. But here, Samuel teaches us a different way. He has learned to let go of his demands, to trust in his mother’s unwavering presence, and simply to be.

This is the essence of humble trust: the refusal to be proud, the decision not to concern ourselves with things beyond our grasp, and the choice to find our contentment in the stillness of God’s love. In those moments of surrender, like Samuel, we discover a peace that transcends our circumstances—a peace that invites us into a deeper relationship with our Creator, one where we can rest fully, not in the restless grasping for more, but in the quiet assurance that we are enough just as we are.