Led — Not Driven

On speaking, listening, and allowing the Spirit to draw things to their close

“After the fire, a still small voice.”

— 1 Kings 19:12

There are moments when a group gathers around the Word and something begins to happen that no one planned.

The Scriptures open.

The Fathers speak with clarity.

Hearts warm.

There is a sense of life moving through the room: even if the “room” is a screen, a chapel, or a small circle of chairs.

When this happens, it is not performance. It is not energy for its own sake. It is not enthusiasm manufactured by personality.

It is gift.

And yet even gift requires discernment.

Those who lead must learn to listen while speaking. The voice continues, but the heart must remain turned upward and outward — upward toward the Spirit, outward toward the faces before them. There is a subtle interior attentiveness that asks, Are we still being led? Not, Do I still have more to say? but, Is the Spirit still drawing us forward?

There is a difference between being driven and being led.

To be driven is to move because momentum carries us.

To be led is to move because grace carries us.

The Spirit does not rush.

The Spirit does not strain.

The Spirit does not need to exhaust anyone to accomplish His work.

And those who participate share this same responsibility of listening. Listening not only to the words being spoken, but to the interior movement of their own hearts. Is there illumination? Is there quiet conviction? Is there the gentle sense that something has landed and should be held in silence?

Sometimes the holiest moment in a gathering is not the final insight but the quiet recognition: This is enough.

The Spirit has a way of drawing things to their close.

It may not align with the clock exactly.

It may not satisfy the desire to finish every thought.

It may not allow every question to be answered.

But when He closes something, there is peace.

Those who lead must learn to feel that interior settling, the shift from expansion to completion. And those who listen must trust that even if a thread remains unfinished, grace has already done what was necessary.

Spiritual gatherings are not sustained by thoroughness.

They are sustained by obedience.

To begin when prompted.

To speak while given breath.

To stop when the breath quiets.

There is humility in both movement and restraint.

If we remain attentive, truly attentive, we will not have to force beginnings or endings. The Spirit who opens the heart is also the One who seals the work.

And when we learn to trust that, there is freedom.

Freedom to speak without anxiety.

Freedom to listen without pressure.

Freedom to close, even when more could be said, because what needed to be given has already been received.