Choices or "What will we do with the time that is given to us."

        In a sermon recently, I found myself quoting from Tolkein's Lord of the Rings one of my favorite passages: (p 51)
      "I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.
       "So do I," said Gandalf, " and so do all who live to see such times.  But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."   
       This has been present in my mind as I have reflected on the pervasive sense of helplessness that many are feeling during this time.  I feel it, too.  There are things we cannot change about life at this moment.  We cannot change the virus, its progression, or how it will affect us or our loved ones if we get it.  We cannot change if we have lost our work because of this, or if we've kept our work but have to adjust how, when and in what way we do that work.  We cannot change who chooses to follow the rules and who does not, and how that might impact us.  The list goes on.  There are many, many aspects to this over which we have no control.
      When we feel this way, I think it is easy for us to end up reflecting on our pasts as well, looking at the curve, the arc of our lives and the many things throughout our lives over which we have had no control.  We can't change other people, as much as we would want to.  We cannot change how they react, how they treat us, what they say or what they do.  We cannot change the doors that have closed in our lives, the opportunities that we have missed, the unkindnesses or cruelties or injustices we have experienced.  We cannot even control things that we have had done in the past.  Once they are done, they are done, and we cannot go back and undo them.
      But I found myself thinking this morning that it is never the case that we therefore have no choices.  It is never the case that we have no agency in our own lives, no decisions, and no power.  There are things we can't control.  But there are always things we do have choices about.  Still, it remains the case that people often feel they have no choices, and are often unable to see the choices they do have.  I think about the movie, "The Devil Wears Prada."  The main character slips down a path of bad actions constantly throwing out the phrase, "I had no choice," but the choices were always hers to make.  Yes, if she chose differently she might have lost her job.  But is that the worst thing that could happen to a person?  To lose a job that you hate?  Of course, this was a movie.  And sometimes the choices we make have even worse consequences.  We could make a choice to stand up for what's right and end up facing abuse, imprisonment, or even death.  We could make a choice to be in a relationship that ends up being harmful to us, or to follow the advice of someone we think is wise and discover we would have been better off not to go that route.  But these are still choices we have, and choices we make.  I think about the scenario of someone holding a gun to a person's head and trying to force that person to do something.  Even in that scenario, there is a choice.  Do you do what the other is insisting that you do?  Or do you choose instead to be shot?  Do you whimper and plead for your life?  Or do you say, "there are things I value more than living and I will not choose to be forced into what you are telling me to do."  In those rare situations where we are physically being forced to do something, when we are being physically controlled and have no options over what our body is doing, there is still choice.  And this is the choice of our minds.  We choose, constantly, always, how we will deal in our own hearts, minds and souls, with the things over which we do not have control.  This includes any time we might have been physically forced to do something, but this also includes the behaviors, words and actions of other people.  We choose how we will respond to the feelings that rise in our own hearts, minds and souls.  We choose how we will frame the situations that occur in our lives.  Like Frodo, who did not choose for the ring to come to him, he had to choose what he would do with the evil before him.  And we have that same choice.  How will we deal with our situation?  How will we choose to see, to frame, and to understand the things that happen to us, that come our way?  How will we choose to understand our lives and to walk through the choices that we do have?
       Paul Pearsall writes about this in his book, The Beethoven Factor.  He says that people choose one of three responses to everything bad that happens to them in their lives.  They can choose to be victims, they can choose to be survivors, or they can choose to be thrivers: people who learn, grow and choose healing and health.  He is quick to say that choosing to be thrivers does not mean that you are always happy, or that you are never depressed, despairing or down.  What it does mean is that you choose to integrate into your life your experiences in a way that helps you to be the most whole that you can be, a person of agency, engagement, and ultimately, of peace within yourself.
      Corrie Ten Boom discussed this also, though she phrased it differently.  She said that after World War II, she worked as a nurse with many of the survivors of the Holocaust.  And what she found was that those who could work through and find forgiveness in their hearts for what they had experienced, that they were able to heal.  And, very simply, those who could not forgive, could never heal.  This doesn't mean that a person doesn't become angry, or even enraged.  I think rage can be the first step towards ultimate forgiveness: naming the hurt, naming the pain.  But if they could never choose then to walk through that anger to the other side, to a place of letting go of that hate or anger, they simply could not heal.  If they chose to stay a victim of their experiences, rather than a survivor or thriver, they would never be whole in their lives.
       Twelve step programs in many ways reflect both of these ideas.  When you look at the twelve steps, they are almost completely focused on self-reflection and on naming one's piece in whatever traumas one has experienced.  They focus on naming our own faults, confessing them, making amends for them to the very best of our abilities, and then trusting God's forgiveness to heal us. The twelve steps begin with the recognition of powerlessness over whatever addiction a person is dealing with.  They recognize where a person has no control, but they then move into a place of claiming the power one does have: to self-reflect and to change one's understanding, viewpoint, vision and choices in this life.
      I'm not saying that claiming our own power, or even recognizing our own power is easy. I'm also not saying that we have total control in our lives.  As I said, there are many things over which we do not have control.  What I am saying is that we do have some agency, some choice in how we will deal with the times we have been given.  And my hope for us all is that we would choose to be thrivers, people who see the choices we have, claim the choices we have, and choose love, compassion, courage and justice in the face of whatever is happening in our lives.
     Right now we are struggling with those things over which we have no control: the virus, the changes in our lives and culture.  But I encourage you to have a bigger vision of what we can control, how we can walk through this time with grace and courage.  Where are your options?  And what will you choose to do with this time that has been given to you?