Have you ever spent time in a quiet church sanctuary? It is one of
my favorite spaces. Just before the people gather for worship. Or on
a weekday when no one is expected in that space. To just find a pew
and sit in the quiet. I find something there that feels like home.
In that space, I know what the psalmist means in verse 1: my heart is not lifted up.
In the silent sanctuary, I am not lifting or even praying. There is not a task I must do to participate in being with God. There is no hymn to sing just yet. It is a space of anticipation. Something will be happening there, at some point. But not yet. It is quiet.
Liturgy is beautiful and powerful; I love that work the gathered
people do to worship God. But sometimes I need the space to not
work at spiritual things. Sometimes, the heart-lifting needs to pause.
We need to simply be present and know that God is present with us.
Finding calm and quiet in our soul can be a challenge. I have found it both in silent sanctuaries and in early morning cups of coffee. I know then that I am present and that God is present with me, even if I don’t have a thing to offer. Like a weaned child with its mother (v. 2). Yes, that image seems just right. Beloved child, independent yet needing the presence of a parent. Loving Mother God, generous in many things, yet offering the simple gift of presence. This is where we find the soul quiet.
How can you be present with God and not feel that you have to offer one single thing? How can you receive what God offers you like a child?
God who mothers us, we welcome your presence with us in moments of singing, moments of healing, and moments of silence. Amen.