AN IMAGE Book published by doubleday a division of Random House, Inc. 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036 IMAGE, DOUBLEDAY, and the portrayal of a deer drinking from a stream are trademarks of Doubleday, a division of Random House, Inc. First Image Books edition published February 1998 by special arrangement with Doubleday. The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition of this book as follows: Nouwen, Henri J. M. The inner voice of love: a journey through anguish to freedom / Henri J. M. Nouwen.— 1st ed. p. cm. 1. Nouwen, Henri J. M.—Diaries. 2. Catholic Church—Clergy—Diaries. 3. Distress (Psychology) 4. Anxiety—Religious aspects—Christianity. 5. Spiritual life—Christianity. I. Title. BX4705.N87A3 1996 282.092—dc20 96-8162 eISBN: 978-0-30776877-3 Copyright © 1996 by The Estate of Henri J. M. Nouwen All Rights Reserved v3.1 To Wendy and Jay Greer Contents Cover Title Page Copyright Dedication Acknowledgments Introduction A Suggestion to the Reader Work Around Your Abyss Cling to the Promise Stop Being a Pleaser Trust the Inner Voice Cry Inward Always Come Back to the Solid Place Set Boundaries to Your Love Give Gratuitously Come Home Understand the Limitations of Others Trust in the Place of Unity Remain Attentive to Your Best Intuitions Bring Your Body Home Enter the New Country Keep Living Where God Is Rely on Your Spiritual Guides Go into the Place of Your Pain Open Yourself to the First Love Acknowledge Your Powerlessness Seek a New Spirituality Tell Your Story in Freedom Find the Source of Your Loneliness Keep Returning to the Road to Freedom Let Jesus Transform You Befriend Your Emotions Follow Your Deepest Calling Remain Anchored in Your Community Stay with Your Pain Live Patiently with the “Not Yet” Keep Moving Toward Full Incarnation See Yourself Truthfully Receive All the Love That Comes to You Stay United with the Larger Body Love Deeply Stand Erect in Your Sorrow Let Deep Speak to Deep Allow Yourself to Be Fully Received Claim Your Unique Presence in Your Community Accept Your Identity as a Child of God Own Your Pain Know Yourself as Truly Loved Protect Your Innocence Let Your Lion Lie Down with Your Lamb Be a Real Friend Trust Your Friends Control Your Own Drawbridge Avoid All Forms of Self-Rejection Take Up Your Cross Keep Trusting God’s Call Claim the Victory Face the Enemy Continue Seeking Communion Separate the False Pains from the Real Pain Say Often, “Lord, Have Mercy” Let God Speak Through You Know That You Are Welcome Permit Your Pain to Become the Pain Give Your Agenda to God Let Others Help You Die Live Your Wounds Through For Now, Hide Your Treasure Keep Choosing God Conclusion Acknowledgments Connie Ellis was the first person who typed the manuscript of this book, and Conrad Wieczorek was the first person who edited it. Both have since died. I remember them with much affection and gratitude. Kathy Christie, my secretary, and Susan Brown, my editor, have done a great deal to make this text ready for publication. I thank them both for their caring and competent work. A special word of gratitude goes to my friend Wendy Greer, who encouraged me during the past three years to overcome my hesitation to publish this book and offered many good ideas for changes and corrections. The generous financial support of Wendy and her husband, Jay, and their many friends has been a great source of inspiration to me. I also want to thank Alice Allen and Ed Goebels for helping me with all the contractual work necessary for this publication. Finally, many thanks to Bill Barry and Trace Murphy at Doubleday for their visits to me at the Daybreak community, for their continued interest in my writing, especially in this book, and for their flexibility and patience during the preparation of the final manuscript. Introduction This book is my secret journal. It was written during the most difficult period of my life, from December 1987 to June 1988. That was a time of extreme anguish, during which I wondered whether I would be able to hold on to my life. Everything came crashing down—my self-esteem, my energy to live and work, my sense of being loved, my hope for healing, my trust in God … everything. Here I was, a writer about the spiritual life, known as someone who loves God and gives hope to people, flat on the ground and in total darkness. What had happened? I had come face to face with my own nothingness. It was as if all that had given my life meaning was pulled away and I could see nothing in front of me but a bottomless abyss. The strange thing was that this happened shortly after I had found my true home. After many years of life in universities, where I never felt fully at home, I had become a member of L’Arche, a community of men and women with mental disabilities. I had been received with open arms, given all the attention and affection I could ever hope for, and offered a safe and loving place to grow spiritually as well as emotionally. Everything seemed ideal. But precisely at that time I fell apart—as if I needed a safe place to hit bottom! Just when all those around me were assuring me they loved me, cared for me, appreciated me, yes, even admired me, I experienced myself as a useless, unloved, and despicable person. Just when people were putting their arms around me, I saw the endless depth of my human misery and felt that there was nothing worth living for. Just when I had found a home, I felt absolutely homeless. Just when I was being praised for my spiritual insights, I felt devoid of faith. Just when people were thanking me for bringing them closer to God, I felt that God had abandoned me. It was as if the house I had finally found had no floors. The anguish completely paralyzed me. I could no longer sleep. I cried uncontrollably for hours. I could not be reached by consoling words or arguments. I no longer had any interest in other people’s problems. I lost all appetite for food and could not appreciate the beauty of music, art, or even nature. All had become darkness. Within me there was one long scream coming from a place I didn’t know existed, a place full of demons. All of this was triggered by the sudden interruption of a friendship. Going to L’Arche and living with very vulnerable people, I had gradually let go of many of my inner guards and opened my heart more fully to others. Among my many friends, one had been able to touch me in a way I had never been touched before. Our friendship encouraged me to allow myself to be loved and cared for with greater trust and confidence. It was a totally new experience for me, and it brought immense joy and peace. It seemed as if a door of my interior life had been opened, a door that had remained locked during my youth and most of my adult life. But this deeply satisfying friendship became the road to my anguish, because soon I discovered that the enormous space that had been opened for me could not be filled by the one who had opened it. I became possessive, needy, and dependent, and when the friendship finally had to be interrupted, I fell apart. I felt abandoned, rejected, and betrayed. Indeed, the extremes touched each other. Intellectually I knew that no human friendship could fulfill the deepest longing of my heart. I knew that only God could give me what I desired. I knew that I had been set on a road where nobody could walk with me but Jesus. But all this knowledge didn’t help me in my pain. I realized quite soon that it would be impossible to survive this mentally and spiritually debilitating anguish without leaving my community and surrendering myself to people who would be able to lead me to a new freedom. Through a unique grace, I found the place and the people to give me the psychological and spiritual attention I needed. During the six months that followed, I lived through an agony that seemed never to end. But the two guides who were given to me did not leave me alone and kept gently moving me from one day to the next, holding on to me as parents hold a wounded child. To my surprise, I never lost the ability to write. In fact, writing became part of my struggle for survival. It gave me the little distance