From Compulsion and Toward Freedom

Whatever form it takes, the movement of the soul and God is always finding its way toward freedom. In prayer as in the rest of life, it is a movement toward freedom from willfulness, from the compulsion to be in charge and the fear of loss of control. {Gerald May}

Toward freedom. Away from the addictive compulsion to hold on tightly and manhandle our environment, our relationships, our future. Manhandle God. Away from the fear of losing control.

Well, lose control, I say. Let lose of that sucker and let it run free. Control is mostly a mirage anyway. And when I exert such energy toward control, I miss the subtle activity of God all around me. I miss God in the faces I meet. I miss God in the smells and the sounds and the hopes and the longings, in the places of mystery and silence and laughter.

And in the tears. When I am bent toward keeping my life in check, then I will always miss God in the tears – because when we are addicted to composure, tears are always viewed as an enemy, never as a friend. And, of course, that lie has killed far too many a heart.

These words emerge from where I find myself today. I can not (must not) attempt to manipulate the many uncertainties of our new life. That will be death. I must be open for surprised, curious as to where and when God might reveal himself. Open. Free. Curious. Losing control.

{I reflect on this a little more and from a different angle – and tell an embarrassing bike story from last Tuesday on the Relevant blog}