The Choice - Max Lucado

i got this in the mail, and it's really so touching. truly God has given us such a priceless gift - choice! and yet we bicker and argue over whose right it is and why life is unfair... just gave me a newer perspective on the sovereignity of God vs free choice debate.

* * *

Why do I want to do bad?” my daughter asked me, unknowingly posing a question asked by many seekers of truth. “Why do I do the thing I hate? What is this ape that gibbers within?” Or, perhaps a more basic question is being asked. “If sin separates me from God, why doesn’t God separate me from sin? Why doesn’t he remove from me the option to sin?”


To answer that, let’s go to the beginning.

Let’s go to the Garden and see the seed that both blessed and cursed. Let’s see why God gave man … the choice.


Behind it all was a choice. A deliberate decision. An informed move. He didn’t have to do it. But he chose to. He knew the price. He saw the implications. He was aware of the consequences.


We don’t know when he decided to do it. We can’t know. Not just because we weren’t there. Because time was not there. When did not exist. Nor did tomorrow or yesterday or next time. For there was no time.


We don’t know when he thought about making the choice. But we do know that he made it. He didn’t have to do it. He chose to.


He chose to create.


“In the beginning God created … ”


With one decision, history began. Existence became measurable.


Out of nothing came light.


Out of light came day.


Then came sky … and earth.


And on this earth? A mighty hand went to work.


Canyons were carved. Oceans were dug. Mountains erupted out of flatlands. Stars were flung. A universe sparkled.


Our sun became just one of millions. Our galaxy became just one of thousands. Planets invisibly tethered to suns roared through space at breakneck speeds. Stars blazed with heat that could melt our planet in seconds.


The hand behind it was mighty. He is mighty.


And with this might, he created. As naturally as a bird sings and a fish swims, he created. Just as an artist can’t not paint and a runner can’t not run, he couldn’t not create. He was the Creator. Through and through, he was the Creator. A tireless dreamer and designer.


From the pallet of the Ageless Artist came inimitable splendors. Before there was a person to see it, his creation was pregnant with wonder. Flowers didn’t just grow; they blossomed. Chicks weren’t just born; they hatched. Salmons didn’t just swim; they leaped.


Mundaneness found no home in his universe.


He must have loved it. Creators relish creating. I’m sure his commands were delightful! “Hippo, you won’t walk … you’ll waddle!” “Hyena, a bark is too plain. Let me show you how to laugh!” “Look, raccoon, I’ve made you a mask!” “Come here, giraffe, let’s stretch that neck a bit.” And on and on he went. Giving the clouds their puff. Giving the oceans their blue. Giving the trees their sway. Giving the frogs their leap and croak. The mighty wed with the creative, and creation was born.


He was mighty. He was creative.


And he was love. Even greater than his might and deeper than his creativity was one all-consuming characteristic:


Love.


Water must be wet. A fire must be hot. You can’t take the wet out of water and still have water. You can’t take the heat out of fire and still have fire.


In the same way, you can’t take the love out of this One who lived before time and still have him exist. For he was … and is … Love.


Probe deep within him. Explore every corner. Search every angle. Love is all you find. Go to the beginning of every decision he has made and you’ll find it. Go to the end of every story he has told and you’ll see it.


Love.


No bitterness. No evil. No cruelty. Just love. Flawless love. Passionate love. Vast and pure love. He is love.


As a result, an elephant has a trunk with which to drink. A kitten has a mother from which to nurse. A bird has a nest in which to sleep. The same God who was mighty enough to carve out the canyon is tender enough to put hair on the legs of the Matterhorn Fly to keep it warm. The same force that provides symmetry to the planets guides the baby kangaroo to its mother’s pouch before the mother knows it is born.


And because of who he was, he did what he did.


He created a paradise. A sinless sanctuary. A haven before fear. A home before there was a human dweller. No time. No death. No hurt. A gift built by God for his ultimate creation. And when he was through, he knew “it was very good.”


But it wasn’t enough.


His greatest work hadn’t been completed. One final masterpiece was needed before he would stop.


Look to the canyons to see the Creator’s splendor. Touch the flowers and see his delicacy. Listen to the thunder and hear his power. But gaze on this—the zenith—and witness all three … and more.


Imagine with me what may have taken place on that day.


He placed one scoop of clay upon another until a form lay lifeless on the ground.


All of the Garden’s inhabitants paused to witness the event. Hawks hovered. Giraffes stretched. Trees bowed. Butterflies paused on petals and watched.


“You will love me, nature,” God said. “I made you that way. You will obey me, universe. For you were designed to do so. You will reflect my glory, skies, for that is how you were created. But this one will be like me. This one will be able to choose.”


All were silent as the Creator reached into himself and removed something yet unseen. A seed. “It’s called ‘choice.’ The seed of choice.”


Creation stood in silence and gazed upon the lifeless form.


An angel spoke, “But what if he … ”


“What if he chooses not to love?” the Creator finished. “Come, I will show you.”


Unbound by today, God and the angel walked into the realm of tomorrow.


“There, see the fruit of the seed of choice, both the sweet and the bitter.”


The angel gasped at what he saw. Spontaneous love. Voluntary devotion. Chosen tenderness. Never had he seen anything like these. He felt the love of the Adams. He heard the joy of Eve and her daughters. He saw the food and the burdens shared. He absorbed the kindness and marveled at the warmth.


“Heaven has never seen such beauty, my Lord. Truly, this is your greatest creation.”


“Ah, but you’ve only seen the sweet. Now witness the bitter.”


A stench enveloped the pair. The angel turned in horror and proclaimed, “What is it?”


The Creator spoke only one word: “Selfishness.”


The angel stood speechless as they passed through centuries of repugnance. Never had he seen such filth. Rotten hearts. Ruptured promises. Forgotten loyalties. Children of the creation wandering blindly in lonely labyrinths.


“This is the result of choice?” the angel asked.


“Yes.”


“They will forget you?”


“Yes.”


“They will reject you?”


“Yes.”


“They will never come back?”


“Some will. Most won’t.”


“What will it take to make them listen?”


The Creator walked on in time, further and further into the future, until he stood by a tree. A tree that would be fashioned into a cradle. Even then he could smell the hay that would surround him.


With another step into the future, he paused before another tree. It stood alone, a stubborn ruler of a bald hill. The trunk was thick, and the wood was strong. Soon it would be cut. Soon it would be trimmed. Soon it would be mounted on the stony brow of another hill. And soon he would be hung on it.


He felt the wood rub against a back he did not yet wear.


“Will you go down there?” the angel asked.


“I will.”


“Is there no other way?”


“There is not.”


“Wouldn’t it be easier to not plant the seed? Wouldn’t it be easier to not give the choice?”


“It would,” the Creator spoke slowly. “But to remove the choice is to remove the love.”


He looked around the hill and foresaw a scene. Three figures hung on three crosses. Arms spread. Heads fallen forward. They moaned with the wind.


Men clad in soldiers’ garb sat on the ground near the trio. They played games in the dirt and laughed.


Men clad in religion stood off to one side. They smiled. Arrogant, cocky. They had protected God, they thought, by killing this false one.


Women clad in sorrow huddled at the foot of the hill. Speechless. Faces tear streaked. Eyes downward. One put her arm around another and tried to lead her away. She wouldn’t leave. “I will stay,” she said softly. “I will stay.”


All heaven stood to fight. All nature rose to rescue. All eternity poised to protect. But the Creator gave no command.


“It must be done … ,” he said, and withdrew.


But as he stepped back in time, he heard the cry that he would someday scream: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” He wrenched at tomorrow’s agony.


The angel spoke again. “It would be less painful … ”


The Creator interrupted softly. “But it wouldn’t be love.”


They stepped into the Garden again. The Maker looked earnestly at the clay creation. A monsoon of love swelled up within him. He had died for the creation before he had made him. God’s form bent over the sculptured face and breathed. Dust stirred on the lips of the new one. The chest rose, cracking the red mud. The cheeks fleshened. A finger moved. And an eye opened.


But more incredible than the moving of the flesh was the stirring of the spirit. Those who could see the unseen gasped.


Perhaps it was the wind who said it first. Perhaps what the star saw that moment is what has made it blink ever since. Maybe it was left to an angel to whisper it:


“It looks like … it appears so much like … it is him!”


The angel wasn’t speaking of the face, the features, or the body. He was looking inside—at the soul.


“It’s eternal!” gasped another.


Within the man, God had placed a divine seed. A seed of his self. The God of might had created earth’s mightiest. The Creator had created, not a creature, but another creator. And the One who had chosen to love had created one who could love in return.


Now it’s our choice.

God works in amazing ways

a friend shared this sotry with me. may it bless you =)

* * *


Here’s an expert from “Learning to Love People You Don’t Like” by Floyd McClung

“When Sally was born, her mother was forty-seven years old. She already had four children from her first marriage, and when her first husband died she married a man with four of his own. Most people would have assumed she was done raising her family. But she had always wanted one of her children to be a missionary, and none of her eight kids seemed inclined in that direction. So she prayed that the Lord would send her one more.

Two days after this last little baby was born, her mother took Sally into the tiny church she attended in Galveston, Texas, laid her on the alter, and dedicated her to God. She made a vow to pray every day for her little girl, that she would hear God’s call to the mission field. That’s how certain she was that God had given Sally to her for that purpose.

One night when Sally was five years old, she awoke in the middle of the night, crying. All she could think about was a family from their church who were missionaries to Africa. The more she thought about them, the more she cried. She woke her mother and told her what was happening. Her mother—immediately perceiving that it was the Holy Spirit at work in her little girl—told her to go back to bed and pray for the missionary family. Sally later remembered that she finally drifted off to sleep thinking, “Some day I’m going to be just like them.”

When Sally was sixteen, the opportunity arose for her to go on a summer outreach to the island of Samoa. However, several barriers barred the way. For one thing, the sponsors of the trip didn’t want to take anyone who wasn’t at least eighteen years old. For another, her stepfather—who was not a Christian—didn’t want her to go. And last be not least, it cost a lot of money to go on the outreach, a tidy sum totally out of the teenager’s reach.

Two weeks before the trip was to begin, Sally’s stepfather told her he had changed his mind. She was flabbergasted: she had been pleading with him every week for months to give her permission to go, and he had been adamant in his refusal. Now, suddenly, he said she could go.

Why the about-face? Apparently, he assumed that since Sally didn’t have enough money, she wouldn’t be able to go even if she did have his permission; by saying yes he could avoid looking like the bad guy. Little did he know that while Sally didn’t have the full amount she needed, she had managed to scrape together enough to get to Los Angeles, where the week-long training session for the outreach trip was to be held. Much to her stepfather’s chagrin (and to her mother’s delight), off she went.

In Los Angeles, Sally ran head-on into the sponsors of the trip, who told her she couldn’t go. They pointed out that she was below the minimum age they had established. They also pointed out that she didn’t have any money to pay for her food, lodging, and transportation.

There was a young man in Sally’s training course who had also grown up wanting to be a missionary, and who had been working and saving for months so he could go on this outreach to Samoa. During the course of the week he and Sally got to know each other. She told him of her conviction that the Lord wanted her to go on the trip, and of her confidence that the Lord would somehow make it possible.

One night as he was praying, the young man sensed the Lord speaking to him. The Lord seemed to be saying, “Give her your money. You are to stay home so that she can go.” Since that definitely wasn’t what he wanted to hear, he argued the point at some length.

His arguments seemed sound. He was between his second and third year of university and might never have the freedom to make such a trip again. He had worked hard to save up the money. He believed God had called him years before to be a missionary, and this was going to be his first overseas adventure.

But God was not to be dissuaded. Finally, the night before the group was to leave, the young man went to the sponsors and told them what he had decided.

Now the sponsors found themselves in a predicament. It had been easy for them to stick to their guns regarding Sally’s age so long as they knew she didn’t have the money for the trip anyway. But now that obstacle had been overcome. And Sally—who still knew nothing of the young man’s decision—was as determined as ever.

The morning the group was to leave, the sponsors called the teenager on the telephone. “What are you doing right now, Sally?” they asked.
“Packing to go to Samoa,” she exclaimed.
“But we told you, you can’t go,” they said.
“I know what you told me,” Sally said. “But the Lord has given me faith to trust him. I believe I’m supposed to go to the airport—right up to the door of the plane, if necessary—and that if I do, he’ll make a way for me. Somehow I believe he’ll change your minds, as well as take care of my finances.”

The sponsors were amazed and encouraged by Sally’s response. What could anyone say to faith like that? “Look, Sally,” they said. “Last night someone came forward and provided the money for you to go. And we’ve prayed about it, and… well, we feel this is a sign that we should make an exception and let you go.”

And go she did. Sally’s group spent most of the summer in a small village where no missionaries had ever been able to visit before. In fact, when they first arrived, a local leader told them they could go to any other village on the island but that one. He encouraged them to pray and ask the Lord where else they should go. Naturally, the Lord said, “Go to the village he told you that you couldn’t get into. I’ll get you in.”

They did, and God did, and by the end of the summer one hundred fifty of that village’s three hundred inhabitants—including the chief—had become Christians. Today, the church those young people started is the largest one of its denomination on the whole island.

Needless to say, the whole incident made a profound impact on Sally. It made a profound impact on the young man as well. Seeing the amazing circumstances—the way his decision about giving away his money changed the sponsors’ minds about letting Sally go—convinced him that he really had heard the Lord. God rewarded Sally’s obedience, and he rewarded the young man as well. The experience persuaded him, once and for all, that the Lord really does speak today, and that he wants his people to listen. It opened up a whole new area of the spiritual realm to him.

The reason I know so much about this story is that the young man was me. And Sally is now my wife."

hello peepz..

hmm... i'm 1st timer using this blog service... kind of messy... dont seems like the usual blog i seen before... anyway... juz drop by and say hi ^^

yeah it's the beginning...

welcome to the ultimate road trip!

even though the actual training and preparation doesn't REALLY begin until may, i believe that right NOW, God wants to start bringing each one of us on the ultimate road trip. Whatever circumstances you are in now, know that it's for a purpose and take heart in that. =)

over the next few months, we'll grow together, learn together, maybe... fight together? heh... but whatever the process, i believe that it is all for good.

meanwhile, i'm not too good at this html thingamy... if anyone has any musical blogskins they've designed or know about, maybe can send me to use as our template? =) would be cool to have a customised background eh?