It’s okay to let go, I heard as I settled down in bed for the night. Seemingly out of nowhere, the voice continued, You don’t have to cling so tightly. It’s okay to hold on more loosely.
I wasn’t quite sure what it even meant; let go of what? Control? Perfection? Guilt? But somehow it was exactly what I needed to hear. The knot in my stomach relaxed; the vague and constant guilt for I’m-not-quite-sure-what faded into the background. Peace washed over me, and in its wake, sleep, which had been eluding me for days.
Now, I’m not one to claim that the Spirit told me this or the Spirit told me that. In fact, I can be a bit cynical about claims like that being carelessly thrown around. I’ve seen too many times when people seemed unable to recognize any difference between what they deemed the Spirit’s voice and their own desires and ambitions. An upbringing and education steeped in Calvinism’s strong emphasis on the human capacity for self-deception, delusion, and blindness has indelibly wired “Proceed with caution” into my mind when it comes to claiming God’s leading.
And yet. I do believe I’ve sensed the Spirit leading in countless moments like these. That reassuring “voice” both sounded like my own voice and intuition and like a voice from outside myself—the Spirit reminding me of the truth: that I don’t need to be in control to find rest. That I don’t need to earn rest. That it’s a gift. That my life is grounded in grace, and that guilt and anxiety doesn’t need to have the last word. That I can let go of needing to be in control. That it’s okay to let go.
I’m fascinated by how Paul describes the Spirit’s leading in Romans 8. After a stunning description of the freedom and hope found in living “according to the Spirit” (v. 4), Paul says “When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God” (vv. 15–16). It almost sounds like the Spirit having a conversation with our own spirit, united almost inseparably. When we cry out to our God, the Spirit cries with us. And that same Spirit reassures our own spirit once more that we are God’s children.
So I think I’m giving up on neatly discerning the difference between the voice of the Spirit and our own intuition, because I suspect it’s almost always more complicated than that. The Spirit speaks into our hearts, minds, and lives just as we are, gently leading us toward the truth when we need it most. Not as an outside, easily distinguished booming voice from the heavens, but as the quiet whisper that’s always drawing our heart and spirit back to rest in God’s love.
I don’t need to be able to neatly draw a line between what the Spirit said and what my own heart and mind said, because what matters most is whether what was said is true, whether it witnessed to the love of God in Christ. And in that moment, God led me back to rest in him.
–Written by Monica LaRose. Used by permission from the author.
