I choose

"At fifteen life had taught me undeniably that surrender, in its place, was as honorable as resistance, especially if one had no choice."

-Maya Angelou

Last night, I saw the sunset.

Actually, I watched.  

I'm a firm believer in captivation through observation.  

It's difficult, really, to simply say "I watched that" without the acknowledgement of gain.  Seeing is inevitable; watching is a choice.  Through the choice to watch, you are also choosing to be moved; to watch is to choose.  And while my cold, tan feet dug into the sand and my arms crossed to keep me warm, I chose to stay and watch the sunset.  This choice resulted in my inescapable enthrallment.  Not only did I see the colors of the sky, but I watched a piece of the day God had given me.  I didn't just see a sunset, but I watched His creation, His colors, His masterpiece.  I didn't simply see art, but I watched art at its finest.   Choosing to dive over seeing and immerse myself in observation, I made the choice to allow God to open my eyes.

Last night, I heard the waves crash.

Actually, l listened.  

I completely trust that there is power behind all that we hear, but its in choosing to listen that its revealed.  

The familiar sound of waves filled my ears.  It's a sound I often crave in silence; it's a sound a long for in panic.  It's a sound that is consistent, but one that conveys a different message each time I listen.  I heard those waves crash, one after another, winding down after a long day of work, and I craved to hear more.  So I listened.  I listened to God putting the world to rest.  I listened to His water speak to the land each time they met.  I didn't merely hear the waves, but I listened to the lullaby that He offers nightly to Creation.

Last night, I felt something.

Actually, I opened.

I am certain that the Creator of you, of me, of that sunset and of those waves, wants so badly for us to be open.  

Of course we can see.  Of course we can hear.  Of course we can feel.  He designed us that way.  But above all, He designed us to choose.  He wants us to watch.  He wants us to listen.  He wants us to open ourselves.  Life would be simpler if choices weren't presented to us, but where would purpose exist?  Where would hope be?   What would be the point of anything if God designed us a with a cookie-cutter?  God loves us so much, that He shares His glory by granting us the power to choose.  Last night while I chose to watch, listen, and open, that power of His absolute delight in us consumed my eyes, my ears, and my heart.

So last night, I chose.

Actually, I surrendered.

And now, the choice to surrender is something I refuse to relinquish.