Waging the Battle with Scrupulosity
By Maria Bonvissuto
For years, I have struggled with the beast of scrupulosity. If you wrestle with it too, you know how hard this battle is. You desperately try to keep things under control, but it often feels like your head is just above water. The more effort you put into trying to think your way out of your anxieties, the more exhausted you become––and the more exhausted you become, the more hopeless you become too. Despair lurks just beneath the surface and, if things go on long enough, it finally rears its ugly head. The fear can be overwhelming and paralyzing.
This morass of fear and second-guessing might leave you too tired or uneasy to say that much in prayer. You might not know what the heck to say. You might be too afraid to say it. But here’s the beautiful thing––you don’t have to say anything.
Sometimes, the only thing you can do is sit and lift your eyes to Jesus’ face, and keep them there. Sometimes, it’s the best thing you could ever do. Blessed Carlo Acutis said, “Sadness is looking at ourselves, happiness is looking towards God.” This is especially true for the anxious person, the perfectionist, the scrupulous.
After many hours of tears and tiredness, I have come to learn this lesson. The times when I have been most convicted of Jesus’ love for me have always been in those quiet moments, when I’m simply looking at Him. When the words won’t come, when you’re drowning in sadness or fear or confusion, find a picture of the Sacred Heart or the Divine Mercy image. Sit before it for a while. Head to a chapel and sit quietly in front of the tabernacle or the monstrance and just gaze. Don’t think about anything. Don’t say anything. Let your eyes rest on Jesus’ eyes. Don’t be ashamed to receive His look back at your face, tearstained or wrinkled with anxiety. Don’t believe the lie that you have to have everything worked out before you let yourself rest in the beauty of His face. Lose yourself in His gaze. He understands the messiness.
There is a beautiful passage in The Magician’s Nephew, the first (in terms of sequence) of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia books, that encapsulates this truth. Digory, the main character, is deeply worried about his mother, who is dying. He has lost hope of finding a cure for her, and stands before Aslan, feeling at the end of his rope. But, in that moment, he suddenly finds an unexpected peace:
Up till then he had been looking at the Lion's great front feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion's eyes.
Not a word needs to be said. Digory has seen the deep compassion in Aslan’s face. He realizes that Aslan understands and loves him, even in his distress. As soon as he lifts his face to Aslan’s, despair is banished. His anxiety and his troubles melt away in the presence of this silent, steady love.
At first, learning to simply sit and trust that a look is enough might be difficult. But the more you get in the habit of lifting your face to Jesus’ face, the more you will forget yourself. His peace and His love will slowly and quietly fill your heart.
Close friends, as we might know, can sit in silence peacefully with each other. When you give yourself space to gaze at God in silence, it builds this deep friendship. You begin, ever so slowly, to learn that God’s love isn’t affected by how much you’re struggling with a particular worry or wound, or whether you’ve lived up to a particular standard of Catholic “perfection.” In truth, you don’t have to make it through the day without committing a single sin, pray at a certain level of attentiveness, squeeze in a certain number of devotions each day, or regulate your emotions perfectly in order to receive His look of delight. You, as you are, are enough for Him. He simply wants to be with you.
And you, in the midst of your weakness and uncertainty, will feel the first green buds of hope shoot up in your heart. You will see that God’s not going anywhere, and that He is perfectly content with this simple look. He is always, in fact, turning His face towards you and waiting for you to look up and return that gaze. Keep your eyes on Him. Get to know the contours of His face—the face that will bring healing, peace, and hope to your anxious heart.
