A puppet on a string?
I did something kind of stupid. It did not hurt anybody and, actually, I do not even have to tell you about it. But I learned a lesson and we are all about being transparent here, aren’t we?
I am trying to make some decisions. Some of them are major, and most of them involve not just mine, but our kids’ future. Not to mention Steve’s future. When you think of it, most of our decisions will have an impact on our future. Some more, some less, of course. Getting sucked into the appealing, sweet sound of commercialism will affect my kids and my future in many ways. So will unashamed gluttony. Eating chips when I should work-out will affect my future in so many ways, especially if I make a habit of it. Gossiping will eventually catch up on me and I will be sorry for the words spoken, not in love, but in selfishness.
aNYwaY. I finally got tired of not knowing what to do (This, I must add, was a decision a little more serious than eating chips or not). Go left or go right? So I prayed. I said: “God, I am not sure what to do here, because I feel like if I go right it may be OK. If I go left, it may be alright too. (I did not actually say left and right to God. I said the two things I am thinking about.) God, I will choose to go left. Can you confirm that that is OK by showing me some kind of a sign before I go to bed tonight.”
I know. cHilDIsH. But give me some slack. I was desperate. Not long ago I did a similar exercise. I asked for guidance and like lightening from a clear sky God showed me clearly what to do. It was so clear and concrete that I had to wonder no more. I wanted that to happen again.
God had about two hours to reveal his will to me. I was waiting by looking for signs under planters, on headlines in magazines, by checking my email, by looking at my kids’ art. I looked and waited. I was getting sleepy. But God said nothing.
I stayed up a little later than normal to give him time to speak. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. In the end I had to go to bed.
The next day I shared with Steve, my very own wizard. “How come God did not speak to me,” I asked, bewilderment in my voice. “I gave him all night.”
Steve said: (Listen up) “I think that there are times when God speaks the way you wanted him to do last night. But most times he does not. He wants us to make our own decisions and own them. He wants us to take responsibility for our choices and follow through with our commitments and promises. He does not want to be like a magician who makes the decisions for us.”
He needed to say no more and I felt like a bit of a naive brat. I had wanted an easy out. I had wanted somebody else to blame in case the choice I made turned sour. I had wanted to be some kind of a puppet whose strings were moved by an invisible force.
But when I thought about it some more I realized that that was not at all what I wanted. I want my freedom and am grateful for it. I want to be responsible for my own choices, because anything else would be cowardly. I want a chance to decide if I shall speak life or death. If I should change history or be changed by it. If I shall be an observer or a participant. I want to make difficult choices, even if they may hurt a little. Better than being a puppet on a string.
Don’t you agree? So, here I am, still wondering if I shall take a right or a left turn.