The Heart’s Humble Quieting

Lord, my heart is not proud; my eyes are not haughty. I don’t concern myself with matters too great or awesome for me. But I have stilled and quieted myself…   -Psalm 131:1-2 NIV

When God wants our attention, he’ll be sure to get it.

He wanted mine the other day. I knew it, too. All morning I had this pressing on my heart, and as I came back to work from lunch, car idling in the parking lot as I watched the flag across the street flutter in the wind, I knew we would have a discussion. Just not now. I had too much to do. “Later tonight, Lord,” I acquiesced. “We’ll talk later.”

The rest of the afternoon quickly passed, early evening also, as I decided to take a detour from the office to stop at home to say hi to my parents and little brother. I stayed later than intended, warming myself in the comfort of the home where I grew up. By the time I ran a few errands and filtered back to my apartment, it was 9 in the evening. I had hoped I could somehow avoid that pressing conversation by keeping myself away so late, but as soon as I hung up my coat, switched on the living-room lights, and entered my bedroom, I felt him watching, waiting with words unspoken, like he always does.

Stalling
I was cowering and I knew it. I had a nagging feeling I knew the topic of conversation and didn’t want to go there. So, I stalled, picking up my room, checking my email, hopping in the shower. Still, my heart heaved within and my mind dug up one thought over and over, and each time I buried it deep inside, refusing to let it surface. “I’m not ready to talk about that yet, Lord,” I pleaded as I padded once more around my room, shifting my sheets, and examining the ceiling fan. Minutes later, I still paced, heart beating wildly within. This time, though, I knew that my fight was over. I didn’t want this weight. It was a difficult issue regarding a close relationship, and I like to stuff things down and squelch the discomfort, especially when it comes to the matters of my heart.

Silence hovered around the room, but inside my mind raced, running like a horse around and around a track. I couldn’t think of a starting point and felt lost, so I did what comes most naturally. I grabbed my black leather journal and penned my request to God.

OK Lord, the Spirit has been pressing on my heart all day. I have been avoiding it because I know what you want to talk to me about, and I’m not ready to go there. You know this already, but maybe I am ready. You’re waiting for me. Let’s have an honest chat.

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I’m delighted for my contemplative essay to be in this month’s Redbud Post. Won’t you head over and read the rest, and check out the other beautiful writing as well?