Learning to lose control: Moved by the Spirit

Usually “to lose control” is something negative: for example, you don’t want to lose control when driving or of your emotions in an argument. Many people would also go on to say that one should always keep under control their life. But here is where I see – and live the consequences of – many risks…

As my formative journey continues towards consecration and ultimately towards holiness (I hope), I grow more and more in self-knowledge. Many personality traits or defects that I’ve certainly had all of my life have only now come under my attention.

One of these tendencies is that of having everything under control, calculated, and well thought out before put into action. I don’t know whether to be alarmed or impressed by my mind’s capability of fixating itself on and determining the outcome of the smallest detail of the future. This capability can be switched on at any moment, night or day, or rather, I should say is never really switched off.

Until recently I never thought too much of it. It actually seemed pretty handy to always be so prepared. It definitely feels more secure and gives me the impression (if not the reality) of never being caught off guard. Just the same, I’ve always admired people who succeeded at being spontaneous…and actually seemed to like it. For me spontaneity is more equivalent to an uncomfortable and unforeseen improvisation than a joyful state of being. I think I could even say that in order to live it without anxiety, I have to plan to be spontaneous.

But as I come to a greater awareness of this part of myself, that certainly has its advantages, I am beginning to see many risks as well as develop desires contrary to it…
One risk that I feel very often is simply exhaustion. When one’s mind works over and over again on the same talk, meditation, conversation, event, exam, etc… at a certain point, it just can’t handle it anymore, or at least mine can’t. It may cause me to lose sleep or have less energy for concentration whether in prayer or while studying. Another risk is that of losing contact with reality, being absorbed in thoughts that are elsewhere. In this sense my community life and relationships begin to suffer as well as that part of me that needs the healthy balance of giving and receiving affection.  

As far as desires go one has been trying to sprout out from the depths of my heart from some time now and in the face of its blatant “counterpart” (feeling ‘in control’ of everything) is showing itself with more force than ever. It’s aided by the Liturgy also as we are accompanied by the Acts of the Apostles in our journey toward Pentecost. What is this desire? It’s simple: to let go and let myself be led.

A couple of weeks ago, in a span of 24 hours I lived, in a small way, the fullness of my human desire of control and my inspired desire of being led. Some friends of mine asked me to give a brief testimony at a prayer vigil they were holding here in Rome. (Per qualcuno che si trova a Roma lo consiglio: info qui) It was a last minute invite and although I eagerly agreed it left me a bit in crisis. What would I say? What would they think? How bad would my Italian be? How thick my American accent? And if I ruin their event….? One worry more egoistical than the other. I hardly slept the night before, unsure if I dreamed about thinking about the testimony or if I was actually waking up during the night to plan it out. The whole day I struggled to remain focused on my daily activities finding myself in constant mental rehearsals. To embarrass myself even more I remind you that this was to be a 4 to 5 minute testimony accompanied by others plus a main talk. By no means was the focus all to be on me.

Arriving there, I was a mess. Thankfully one of my sisters was with me to distract and support me. There is nothing like meeting the smile of a “consorella” when sitting behind a microphone in front of an audience. But before talking, as programmed, there were a few songs of praise and worship to open the vigil. I told myself to just enter into the song without thinking too much and continued to invoke the presence of the Holy Spirit. At a certain point a familiar melody began to play and I realized that we were about to sing the translated Italian version of a song I knew well from my days in the parish back home. Closing my eyes, I began to sing from memory in English, letting the words leave my lips as a prayer. Prompted by the priest leading the prayer I opened my hands and slightly lifted my arms. In this position of praise and openness I received a Sweet Guest in my soul. Like a wave of consolation He washed over me pushing out all the tension and weight I had accumulated in that day. Don’t worry. It’s not such a big deal. I’ll tell you what to say. My heart, filled with a new joy and peace desired to sing all the louder. 

Finishing this moment of praise and worship, it was time for my testimony. And although accompanied by my rapidly beating heart, I enjoyed each moment of it. As promised I shared mostly words inspired by the Spirit and very few of those prepared by me beforehand. Returning to my seat we entered into a time of Eucharistic adoration, and I found myself looking upon my Lord with new eyes. We sang a song that described perfectly how I was feeling in that moment: free. With the sweet taste still lingering on my lips my desire for this liberation from my “need” to control grew all the stronger.

In the third chapter of the Gospel of John there is a verse that really strikes me: “He does not ration his gift of the Spirit” (Jn 3:34). In my Italian Bible this is translated as: “without measure He gives the Spirit.” Without measure. When God gives, He gives everything every time. God does not know measure. He is not measured. Measure is a human construct that we use to…wait for it…control. 

This verse really challenges me. Do I believe it? That God does not ration His gift of the Spirit? If that’s the case, why don’t I expect to receive His Spirit? Why do I limit – measure – “how much” Spirit I can be given and then organize accordingly? Or why is it that I decide what gifts of the Spirit He can give me and which ones I will never receive? Why do I feel the need to have everything under control if God promises me His Spirit to guide me? Do I not trust in the quality of His work and thus would rather do it myself? 

With this reflection, I’m not saying that we should never prepare and do everything spontaneously because that would just be the other extreme of the spectrum. As in everything we need to seek the balance of our active participation and the movement of the Holy Spirit that guides us. 

In our journey towards Pentecost, let this be our prayer: for an openness to and a trust in His sure gift of self. The Spirit Himself is after all the greatest of the gifts of the Spirit. May we be liberated from any tendencies towards total control of our lives and rather filled with the freedom of being able to let go and be led. For He who leads us is Trustworthy and Faithful; He is Love Himself.