Yearning and Yielding

Within the Quaker community, you will sometimes hear Friends reference the wisdom to not “outrun our Guide.” Less frequently, but issuing from the same wisdom, Friends will remind one another to avoid “lagging behind the Spirit.” In this way, we remind one another to live such a centered existence that we walk in step with the Living Christ.

And—like so many aspects of a life with God—it is easier said than done. At least for novices like me.

Lately, I have been wrestled by two words that keep rising within me and sounding all around me: Yearning and yielding. Or maybe it is Yielding and yearning. Whenever one appears to take precedence over the other, their order and sense of priority seem to reverse.

This confusion or tension may be as it should be. Just when I think “yielding” and “yearning” are contradictory or competing movements in my life, they strike a beautiful balance. Together, they twist into a paradoxical harmony that appears to be part of the point and process of learning to walk in a way that neither lags behind nor rushes ahead of the Spirit.

A challenge is presented within a culture that yearns for something better—always for more—for deeper change. Within the scriptures, we are encouraged to hunger and thirst for righteousness and work with God to see a world set right. This deep yearning shows up in the human quest for justice, the fight for equality, and the struggle for human rights. A few decades ago, there was a similar passionate pursuit of peace, but that seems to have taken a back seat these days, at least among most people I know. Others labor with all their might for the sake of evangelism, the protection of children, or food security. We yearn for a better world in so many and varied ways, and it gets lived through the way many people devote their time, energy, and resources.

This yearning can be profound and life-gripping. Who knows whether someone is so called to a concern that they may be asked to lay down their life or sacrifice their health or disrupt the lives of those who stand in the way of change? I don’t doubt this is sometimes the case.

And sometimes—it also seems—an unrelenting and uncompromising yearning can lead to unnecessary harm to oneself and others. We can get so swept up in our longing for some outcome that we wind up being crushed or crushing others with a spiritless rage, anger, pride, self-importance, or arrogance. Though fueled by good intentions, we may be doing more harm than good and working against the very way the Spirit may be moving. I know I have been guilty of this.

Learning to yield truly can also lead to radical steps. In a world full of so much need, who knows when someone may be called to a season of retreat, stillness, contemplation, rest, and even withdrawal from the nagging needs and constant demands? Genuine faithfulness is sometimes far more about learning to be than do, so I don’t doubt this is also the case.

And sometimes—it seems—we can too quickly step back from others and avoid responsibilities that may be ours to carry. Frightened or unsure about how to engage, it is very easy to insulate ourselves from concerns, issues, and people whom we have been given to address. And though God may have prompted our initial seclusion and disengagement, we can fall into a spirit-less self-protection, fearfulness, and indecision that keeps us from being in step with the Holy Spirit. Again, I have been guilty of this.

Words other than yearning and yielding best describe any tension you may feel as you work out what faithfulness looks like in your life. Perhaps it is rest and revolution. Or striving and surrendering. Or conquest and coma. (Nah, not that one).  And perhaps you have no competing emotions or seemingly contradictory impulses at work in you. If not, fantastic!

For me, however, focusing on both yearning and yielding is helping me attend to what is truly mine to do. Rather than finding some formula to bring balance to them, paying attention to both realities helps me find a sweeter spot that feels nearer to faithfulness.  Because this sweet spot often changes with the context and gets impacted by how others around me are also being led, it takes vigilance to stay centered.

Yearning and Yielding.

Yielding and Yearning.

There are moments when I hold these in tension that it feels like my heart might burst or my soul might explode. This learning to be with Christ, without reluctantly lingering behind or impatiently racing ahead, feels particularly important in this season of history, when frenzied and frantic self-effort and fearful and frugal passivity muddle and disempower our witness in the world. Maybe—just maybe—as we simultaneously yearn and yield—we will find ourselves carried along in power, carefully cradled in the Spirit, finding our own healing and well-being, and better able to offer it to others at the right time, in the right place, in a more Spirit-led way.

Queries:

How do you practice yielding to God?

What does yearning for God look like in your life?

How/when/do these two come together in your practice of faithfulness?