Be Still My Soul: A Restorative Practice to Circumvent Anxiety, Part III

I breast-fed all four of my children, and I experienced the challenge of weaning them. I am mindful of a distinct memory as I consider this final reflection on Psalm 131 and the third step for circumventing anxiety. The memory that comes to mind isn’t an abstract one. It’s an actual recollection just days after our son was born. We were home from the hospital, adding a fourth to our young family, with a two-and-a-half-year-old sister. We were all making adjustments.  

On this particular day, our pastor came to visit—the kind of thing that pastors often do. Wilbur came to congratulate us, meet our baby boy, and check in to see if there was anything we needed. As I held Brandt in my arms, smitten by the unmistakable love of a new mother, he began to show distress. He was hungry! And so he did what any breast-fed newborn will do. He started rooting. His efforts fierce, his little mouth groping, he frantically began to search for my breast. Awkward? Yep. You bet. 

If you’ve ever been around a hungry breast-fed baby, you can likely recall what it is like for them to root for the breast frantically. It’s evident to all that their feverish burrowing can only be satisfied by one thing. And thankfully, our pastor recognized this as his signal to leave so I could feed Brandt. 

This memory came to mind as I reflected on Psalm 131:2,  

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.

A hungry newborn is a very different experience from a weaned child. Yet it’s this simile that David, the author of this Song of Ascent, used to describe his soul: “my soul is like a weaned child within me.” I wonder if one of his own weaned children was next to him or sitting on his lap as he composed the words to this song? Or maybe he was searching for a way to describe his interior state of being, and the memory of a young child contently resting at his mother’s breast came to mind. 

In Part I of this series, I explained that Psalm 131 had become a wonderful source of comfort for me as I dealt with my own anxiety. As I meditated on it, I saw three stances emerge that help circumvent anxiety. The first is to ground ourselves in our bodies. The second is to embrace our limits as human beings. And in this final essay,

3. We Rest in the Faithfulness of God

The reason a weaned child can rest against his mother’s breast is because he has learned to trust his mother. Time and again, when he became hungry or needed comfort, he found his mother consistently, tenderly, and faithfully responding to his needs. That instilled in him the trust that he could rely on his mother to respond to his needs. That enabled him, once weaned, to rest and trust that she would continue to meet his needs. 

If only that is how all of us have experienced human love. If only that is how we’ve experienced the love of God. Yet the truth is that many of us have “gaps” in our stories. We’ve had experiences when we didn’t get what we needed (type A trauma) or we got what we didn’t need (type B trauma). And when those traumas aren’t fully metabolized, they continue to live in our bodies as emotionally remembered experiences of deprivation. 

While I described in Part II that I don’t usually think of myself as an anxious person, the fact that I have felt so much anxiety since the election has been an important awareness. It has alerted me to evidence of unprocessed trauma; evidence that I feel no need to shame or hide from myself or anyone. The suffering that I see happening in our country is activating an emotionally remembered experience from my own story.  

Attending to the Gaps 

As I reflect on my story and what is being activated, even so I can still point to an undeniable Presence that has sustained me, even while suffering. I have a sense of God with me, supporting me and providing for me. This reminds me of a song by Alana Levandoski that I’ve listened to many times on repeat. The line that gets me every time is, “God protects us from nothing, but unexplainedly sustains us in all things.” 

This line rings true to my experience: that suffering is an unavoidable reality of life and that God is with me in my suffering, sustaining me in ways I find hard to explain. In order to rest in God’s faithfulness (like a weaned child), we will need to do the work of attending to the gaps in our story; of processing what is being triggered by current events and searching for an unexplainable Presence who may be sustaining us. 

If you find yourself activated and anxious today, I’d like to offer one final encouragement: meet with a spiritual director! Spiritual directors are especially trained to help you “do the work” of attending to the gaps and processing your disillusionment with God and life. We are trained to bear witness to your story without judgment by offering empathy and compassionate listening as we help you search for God’s sometimes elusive presence. 

Here's a list of affiliates that we recommend. Don’t hesitate to reach out to me through our website; I’m happy to help connect you with someone who would be a healing presence in your life. 

Warmly, Beth Booram