O Lord, my heart is not lifted up, my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me.

But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is like the weaned child that is with me.

O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time on and forevermore.

 Psalm 131, NRSV

God, I’m not trying to rule the roost, I don’t want to be king of the mountain. I haven’t meddled where I have no business or fantasized grandiose plans. 

I’ve kept my feet on the ground, I’ve cultivated a quiet heart. Like a baby content in its mother’s arms, my soul is a baby content.

Wait, Israel, for God. Wait with hope. Hope now; hope always! Psalm 131, The Message

Like moments of true darkness, moments of silence are rare. There’s almost always the hum of traffic or the squawk of on-screen voices within earshot. When those rare moments of silence do find us, we’re apt to fill them with whatever sound we can – music, television, our own footsteps and voices. We live within walls of sound, the noise in our environment and our own inner cacophony. To dwell in inner and outer quiet doesn’t just happen: we must make a time and space for it. I must make a time and space for it.

In silence, I find the Spirit and I find myself. I cannot hide behind the noise of distractions, and I cannot reduce life to less than the holy experience it is.

When I dare to make silence a habit, I can’t reduce anyone or anything else to less than a holy reality, either. Then, like a baby content in its mother’s arms, my soul is content.

…cultivating cheerfulness, magnanimity, charity, and the habit of holy silence… 

[For the full prayer, click A Morning Resolve above.]