Choice

I have been pondering the beautiful, terrible thing that is human choice. Following on from my musings on the grapefruit, I am so grateful that I get to choose to drink deep of all that is life. I get to choose to accept abundance, to partake of both the bitterness AND joy of the human adventure. But the terrible thing is that I am also free to choose NOT to receive all that is available to me. I am also free to choose to hide, choose to opt out whenever I feel like it. And even more than that, other people are free to make choices too...! I can’t control anyone else’s choices (even more importantly, I should never try to), however they might affect me; and it is good.

Choice is empowering. Choice means that I get to play a part in the unfolding of my own life; in the writing of my own story. Choice is the Father’s invitation to me to be a co-creator, co-author with him. Here’s where it gets tricky though. If I never make powerful choices, if I just go along with the flow, I never have to take responsibility for the consequences. Or at least, that’s how we feel about it all. The truth is that even when I opt out of making a decision – well, I’ve actually chosen not to choose, and therefore the go-with-the-flow results are really something I DO have to take responsibility for after all! So what’s tough about choice is that it comes with consequences, and therefore requires ownership. And we are petrified (in the fear-filled as well as the turned-to-stone sense of the word) by the fear of the consequences of our choices. So we opt out of them. Or we make hurried choices that we later regret. Now, I am no stranger to putting up the “no responsibility hands”. Here’s a demonstration:

Thanks Asanda!

These are VERY helpful in certain situations. Picture this: you and your friends want to watch a DVD, but can’t decide which one. You make a suggestion, which is then followed through on... except everyone hates it. You are now responsible for having chosen the movie everyone hates. Well done you. What you should have done, right as you made the suggestion, was put up the no-responsibilty-hands, thus absolving yourself from all future fall-out. Very helpful indeed. What is NOT helpful is when the figurative no-responsibility hands come out to play – warning bells should start ringing. I have to go ahead and make a choice, regardless of whether it’s the “right” one or not. I can’t be afraid to make a choice in case it’s wrong. Chances are, it may be the wrong choice, but what is important is that I MAKE it, and later figure out my way through the consequences. Madeleine L’Engle says, “We don’t know. We can only make guesses, and our guesses may be wrong. Far too often in this confused world we are faced with choices, all of which are wrong, and the only thing we can do, in fear and trembling, is to choose the least wrong, without pretending to ourselves that it is right.”

If it is so easy for me to make the wrong choice, why is it still so important for me to actively make decisions in my own life? Why not let everything take me where it wills? You see, I believe in an intentional God, a God whose image I am made in. I don’t think he planned a go-with-the-flow life for me. He is the God of structure AND creativity (just look at a sunset – the sun always rises, but it looks different every day), the God of form and improvisational spontaneity. But my life is not a consistently improvisational melody – it’s more like a call and response song between the Creator and me. I am meant to be intentional about my life. When Jesus went willingly to the cross to do what no one else could do for me – to renew the broken places in me, and restore my relationship with the Father – one of the things his sacrifice achieved for me was the beautiful gift of choice. If Jesus hadn’t died for me, I wouldn’t be ABLE to choose him; I would have had no choice but to continue with existence without him. What’s wild is that in giving me the gift of choice, he also enabled me NOT to choose him – let that sink in. He is so committed to me having the gift of choice that he gave it regardless of whether I would use it to walk towards or away from him. What else says “unconditional love” more clearly than that?!

When I extend love to someone – boy does it (usually) mean that I’m hoping they’ll return it (in some way or another!).  And if they don’t, of course I’d feel deeply rejected. And perhaps I might resort to some kind of manipulation to try win a response. But to love fully, to give the gift of love from a completely open heart, knowing that it may never be returned – that is true vulnerability; that is courage in action. As Ghandi said: “A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.”

Now, I don’t know how to simultaneously wrap my brain around the fact that I have free will and a choice, and the fact that God is completely sovereign and knows every day of my life before I have lived it. But what I think this means is that he trusts my heart more than I do. If I have chosen to allow my heart to be the place where he takes up residence, then I can trust it to lead me true. And I can also trust that even if I make the wrong choice (and chances are strong), it is not the end of the world. There is always hope. I can’t control 90% of what happens in my life (and perhaps I should not try to control that 10%), but I CAN choose how to respond (not simply react) to it all.

Have you ever thought about the phrase “this made me feel (x)”? When I say, “You made me [feel] sad,” to someone, I am essentially putting up the no-responsibility-hands in regards to my own emotions. I am saying, “I had no choice, I was forced [by you] into feeling like this.” But as vindicating as that phrase may feel to trump out (because if how I feel is the other person’s fault, then it is not mine), it is untrue, and it is evidence of me giving up my choice. It means that I am going through life reacting to everything instead of choosing a response. Regardless of how someone treats me, I have this beautiful (and terrible!) endowment of choice, that it is my responsibility to make use of. I can’t do a thing about their choices, but I have to make use of the gift given to me. When I was a kid I had this wonderful gift from my parents: a little tape player that could be plugged into the wall but could also work on batteries. I remember listening to audio books on long roadtrips – that tape player went everywhere with me. It was always so sad when the batteries eventually ran out. But then, once we got home, I could plug it into an electricity source, and listen to stories for hours, as I painted my way through the weekends or holidays. Perhaps the gift of choice is a little like that – I can make some good decisions on my own battery power for a while,though I’ll eventually run out of my own wisdom and natural instinct. But the Holy Spirit is a source that I will never be able to diminish through use, and he always makes himself available to me. The gift that he has given me will work best when I use it in partnership with him. And what a glorious partnership that is.