I stretched out on the sofa and opened a bag of potato chips and turned to the TV show
I'd chosen.
I could have read a book, played with a puzzle, called a friend, scrubbed the kitchen,
gone to bed, mended my husband's shirts (his jaw would have dropped open), ironed my
husband's shirts (his jaw would have hit the floor), patched up the hole in the ceiling
where a plant used to hang or just meditated on that hole in the ceiling.
My choice was to watch a movie. I also watched a commercial. I could have turned off
the TV, gone to the bathroom, raided the fridge, vacuumed the carpet or closed my eyes and
covered my ears and hummed.
During the commercial, something significant happened. A revelation. A light bulb in
the dim attic. Something that maybe made choosing to watch the commercial a worthwhile
activity after all.
It was an advertisement for a candy bar. Wishing my bag of chips was really a bag of
chocolates, I thought of how many candy bars there are.
We have square bars, long bars, short bars, chunky bars and nutty bars; candy that's
fruit-filled, cookie-filled and candy-filled; tiny bits and giant Kisses, minty ones, diet
ones, hard ones, chewy ones; the kind that melt in your mouth (not in your hands) and the
kind that sticks to your teeth.
To get it off your teeth you can brush with the toothpaste that four out of dentists
recommend or toothpaste that freshens your breath, toothpaste that tastes like mint or
toothpaste that tastes like the candy already in your teeth.
And think of all the kinds of chips I could have been munching on.
Our choices are nearly endless. Which is why it takes me two hours to go through the
grocery store. Of course, I could choose the small convenience store down the street.
More than ever before, we have choices. Not only grocery store choices and leisure time
choices, but more important choices, some of which never existed before, many of which are
moral choices.
Should we abort unwanted babies? Should we test the unborn to see if it's healthy or
the right sex? Should we pull the plug on the elderly? Should we donate money to AIDS
research? Should we foster the baby who's been abandoned at the hospital because its
mother had AIDS and chose not to abort it?
Or do we choose to ignore these issues, hoping they never come close to home?
Perhaps the most significant question: Do we choose to ask God what He wants us to
decide?
