Choices

Can there be something in life that has power over us which little by little causes us to forget all that is good? And can this ever happen to one who has heard the call of eternity quite clearly and strongly? If this ever can be, then one must look for a cure against it. Praise be to God that such a cure exists – to quietly make a decision. A decision joins us to the eternal. It brings what is eternal into time. A decision raises us with a shock from the slumber of monotony. A decision breaks the magic spell of custom. A decision ends the long row of weary thoughts. A decision pronounces a blessing upon even the weakest beginning, as long as it is a real beginning. Decision is the awakening to the eternal.

- Soren Kierkegaard

After spending thirteen years in public education and four years in a university, I’ve learned many things - but decision making is not one of them. Life to this point has felt like something that has just sort of happened to me. I didn’t choose my best friends growing up. My neighbors and classmates were just there – handed to me by my street address and my last name’s special place in the alphabet. In high school, I didn’t exactly spend the summer after my sophomore year staying up late, trying to discern whether or not to enter my junior year. It was kind of a given. Even my college selection was a no-brainer. With free tuition, wonderful professors with whom I was already acquainted, and a solid Christian roommate lined up, it was time to pack my bags and head up the hill to Miami University. Life has been full of “next steps” that have presented themselves in perfect succession, allowing me to coast down the path naturally, with minimal steering on my part. And make no mistake – I feel I’ve spent my time exactly where I’ve needed to spend it. I have no regrets about any of the places I’ve been or people I’ve come to love.

However, after graduating college, it did feel a bit like standing at the edge of a cliff. The path before me suddenly stopped, and the next move was mine to make. My indecision really came out in that season, and luckily my friends and family were more than patient with me as I stood there, petrified and paralyzed. Well, I’ve taken a few steps since then and have found myself in a new place. And as I keep going, I guess I’m realizing more and more the centrality of decision making (and how I’m not so good at it). Life’s path no longer slopes gently and naturally, and for the first time in quite a while I’m having to peddle to get somewhere. No more coasting.

I’m beginning to wake up to the fact that my dreams and goals aren’t going to materialize in front of me on a platter (my apologies to any older and wiser readers for whom this point seems painfully obvious). If I want to someday escape the American Dream, it’s going to take decisions. If I want to get married some day, it’s definitely going to take action on my part. If I want to live by the mountains or by an ocean, that’s something that I will have to choose.

It’s an odd feeling – my white-canvas life in front of me. It’s not unlike “playing God.” And I suppose that’s where I am in all of this: trying to figure out where God resides in it. More precisely, I’m looking for the points where God and I will intersect in the moments of choice. As Kierkegaard says, "a decision joins us to the eternal." At the heart, it’s a creative process, and thus there is risk. Through making choices, God allows us to reach upward, take hold of eternity, and pull it down into time.