When I was little, there were these things called books. They were pretty remarkable. I still like them.
But for a short period of time, I really was interested in those Choose Your Own Adventure books. I think every kid my age went through a phase when they were attracted to these novel-ties (I know that was an awful pun, but it was right there). The simple idea was found in the title: you "chose" the direction in which the story went. For example, let's say you were reading a medieval adventure and you came to a dungeon door. If you wanted to enter the dungeon, you'd turn to page 94. If you wanted to explore another part of the castle, then you'd turn to page 72.
Sometimes I would choose poorly and the dungeon would be filled with a murderous skeleton army. But I could always cheat by backtracking and re-choosing until I found my way to the hidden treasure or, at the very least, was not mown down by a sword-wielding science classroom display.
If our lives are stories (which is quite popular to say), then they are an awful lot like a Choose Your Own Adventure book in which you can't go back. Granted, our books keep colliding with other people's Choose Your Own Adventure books and all sorts of other literature that is completely beyond our control. Still, we have these choices that have a great say in the ways in which our journeys will go.
I have been fortunate in that many of the major choices I have made (with lots of guidance and assistance) have turned out well: the decision of faith (I know Calvinists will quibble, but just go with me here), where I went to college, asking EA to marry me (and the choices we have made in Choose Our Own Adventure), leaving seminary, going back to seminary, etc.
Then there are the choices that don't go well. Some of those don't go well because of obvious poor choices.
To write your term paper now, turn to page 82.
To procrastinate for five weeks, turn to page 112.
(turns to page 112)
You have gotten three hours of sleep in the last two days and still barely got your paper turned in. Meanwhile your friends that didn't procrastinate got to do all sorts of fun stuff and are not staggering around like a zombie.
Poor choices often yield poor results. The more maddening results are the less desirable ones that result from neutral or even seemingly responsible decisions.
To do the responsible thing, turn to page 145.
Forget responsibility, let's do what we want and turn to page 139.
(turns to page 145)
You are in a room with a murderous skeleton army.
What?!
I am having an absolutely miserable week and it's only Wednesday. Even the seemingly simple choices are blowing up in my face. The result has been some very real demons concerning how I perceive myself rising up like an undead horde and charging at me. It has felt hellish and none of the options at the bottom of the page seem good.
I was wallowing on this painful page at home tonight. I have felt like my heart is tied to my ankle and I have just dragged it around clanging and collecting dirt. But then I looked down at my oldest son and asked if I could have a hug. He grinned and jumped up into my arms.
To open your heart up to having children, turn to page 33.
I saw EA standing across the room. She looked at me and said, "I love you."
To tell this girl how you feel, turn to page 21.
While working on something in our kitchen, a reminder for evening prayer appeared on my phone. I opened the app and one of the first things I read was, "O God, come to my aid : O Lord, make haste to help me."
To stick with following Jesus as best you can, even when it's difficult, turn to page 7.
I was not just stuck on this awful page. The choices in my adventure thus far that have turned good and beautiful, often in spite of me, are still with me. They are sustaining me and giving me some hope.
I am still apprehensive about the near future. Maybe I'll learn something in the room with the murderous skeletons of my past. Maybe I'll conquer the undead horde. Maybe I'll barely crawl out alive, beaten and bloodied. But I have to keep reminding myself that this one awful page is not my life. This doesn't define me. I cannot let it do so.
To remember the good of your adventure thus far and to hope rather than to cave in to fear, turn to page 129.
I pray that is a page to which I can turn.