Lord, I have often been guilty of “fussiness” in my relationship to You. I have not been “like a weaned child [who] rests against his mother” (Psalm 131:2) with You. I have fretted because I didn’t have my daily devotional instead of being content with being devoted. I have worried because I have not prayed enough instead of making my life itself a prayer. Too often my deep inward relationship to You is disturbed because I feel I must constantly prove myself to You.
This is not the rest You promised, Lord, nor will it ever be until I learn that a child does not need to earn its mother’s love, or live in the constant fear of losing it. The child finds contentment in the simple relationship itself. You are concerned with my being, not my doing. You are not as impressed with my regular church attendance as You are with my heart being a continual altar. You want me to be a light, not strive to shine; to be a disciple, not act like one.
How uncomplicated was Jesus’ relationship to You. It was easy, natural. He could make the most striking claim (“I am the light of the world,” John 8:12) as naturally as we eat bread and butter. There was no pumped-up striving, no anxious grasping. He was—that is all there is to it!
Lord, if I am fussy with You, how fussy I will be toward others! My holiness will become prickliness. and others will avoid me like a plague. If my spirituality offends others, it is a sign that I am too self-conscious of it. I should be the last person in the world to know that I am a blessing to others. I must be as Moses, who “did not know that the skin of his face shone because of his speaking with [God]” (Exodus 34:29). Give me that holy indifference to the effects of godliness which is in itself godliness.
“Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; like a weaned child rests against his mother, my soul is like a weaned child within me” (Psalm 131:2).
