I was writhing in agony and utter confusion.
Ten minutes earlier I’d been sitting with a cup of tea, chatting with my wife and enjoying a normal morning. Out of nowhere, I felt a burning, cramping sensation begin to build in my upper abdomen. In short order, I was on the floor, and she was dialing 911.
EMTs helped me onto a stretcher, and the ambulance rushed me to the emergency room. On the way, I experienced waves of pain I’d never known in my fifty-three years.
At the hospital, I was quickly hooked up to IVs and equipment. As tests were run, the pain began to subside, then faded away before I was given pain meds. The blood work, CT scan, and other tests all came back negative. My gall bladder was removed five years ago, eliminating that as the potential issue. The doctors said the good news was that all major concerns were ruled out. The bad news was they had no idea what caused my pain. They released me with instructions to come back for further testing if the symptoms returned.
One side effect of that experience was a shattering of my illusion of control. Without warning, life took my plans, desires, to do list, and responsibilities for the day and stomped on them. In moments, I was utterly helpless to do anything but surrender—surrender to the situation, surrender to the pain, surrender to the medical professionals caring for me. It was a humbling place to be.
My love of certainty has been another casualty of that fateful morning. I’m faced with the reality that I have no idea what happened or if the mind-bending pain will return. Will it hit on my upcoming book tour? In an airplane? When I’m out with friends? Never? It’s an unwelcome part of my life that I simply have to accept.
Author and Harvard professor Henri Nouwen said this about our illusion of control:
What keeps us from opening to the reality of the world? Could it be that we cannot accept our powerlessness and are only willing to see those wounds that we can heal? Could it be that we do not want to give up our illusion that we are masters over our world and, therefore, create our own Disneyland where we can make ourselves believe that all events of life are safely under control? Could it be that our blindness and deafness are signs of our own resistance to acknowledging that we are not the Lord of the Universe? It is hard to allow these questions to go beyond the level of rhetoric and to really sense in our innermost self how much we resent our powerlessness. . . .
henri nouwen
I appreciate both his sobering honesty and the fact that he does not leave us without hope:
The astonishing thing is that the battle for survival has become so “normal” that few people really believe that it can be different. . . . Oh, how important is discipline, community, prayer, silence, caring presence, simple listening, adoration, and deep, lasting faithful friendship. We all want it so much, and still the powers suggesting that all of that is fantasy are enormous. But we have to replace the battle for power with the battle to create space for the spirit.
henri nouwen
How tightly do you cling to control? Learn to let go. Find something or someone outside of yourself that’s worthy of trust. Embrace uncertainty. Practice silence, listening, and honest reflection. Nurture deep relationships. Choose peace regardless of circumstance. If you do, you’ll experience a simple freedom, and you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.
As shared in the April 16, 2023 Daily Meditation by the Henri Nouwen Society. Text excerpts taken from “You are the Beloved” by Henri J.M. Nouwen © 2017 by The Henri Nouwen Legacy Trust. Published by Convergent Books.
