by Joanie Butman
During a recent wedding, I met a delightful woman. She was my dinner partner, and I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know her. Jill is a reader of this blog so we had lots to discuss. Shortly into the conversation, she confessed that when she was first introduced to the Choose Wisely website, she found the name a real turnoff. In fact, I think she said something like, “I have to be honest, I hated that name! It really bothered me.” And she said it more than once. You’d think I might be offended, but I get it. It was the same innate response I had hearing my mother’s warning (which I never heeded) as I walked out the door, “Make good choices!” I cringed every time – maybe because I was planning on doing the exact opposite.
Jill is not the first person to find that name off-putting. I’ve gotten a lot of pushback, especially in the beginning. Hearing that advice from a parent is one thing, annoying as it is. From a peer, it sounds arrogant, as if you consider yourself the arbiter of wisdom – which I certainly am not. The only authority I have on the topic of choices is earning a distinction in making the wrong ones – repeatedly. As I’ve often quoted, “If you can't be a good example, at least be a horrible warning.” Why not parlay my antics into a format that might help others see how God can take our messes and turn them into a message that glorifies Him?
Had I chosen to rely on God’s guidance and counsel at an earlier age, I would have saved myself (and others) a lot of heartache. Coulda, woulda, shoulda – you can’t change the past. One of my Bible study leaders often reminded me, “Don’t should on yourself!” That doesn’t mean we gloss over our past. God’s handiwork is best seen in hindsight. Through all my incredibly stupid choices, He was clearly working, forming the person I am today. If I can encourage others by reminding them of the redeeming power of God’s love and mercy, why wouldn’t I? In this week’s sermon my pastor reminded us that we are called to share our testimony to encourage and strengthen others. He equated it to one beggar telling another beggar where to find some bread.
The reason I could relate to Jill’s initial distaste to the Choose Wisely name is because I’ve never liked being told what to do. I think humans in general suffer from that malady. Look at Adam and Eve. I’m sure there were plenty of other snacks from which to choose. Yet nothing attracts us more than forbidden fruit. A rebel at heart, whatever I was told not to do I did – just to prove I could. What I thought I was proving, and to whom, remains a mystery to me. The only thing I confirmed to anyone who cared was that I was an idiot.
Let’s face it. We all want to be our own boss. That’s how Satan got Eve to eat the apple. I remember giving my son an order when he was young. He responded with indignation, “You’re not the boss of me. God is!” Wise words from a 6-yr-old. Not to be outdone, I replied, “Well, He’s busy at the moment and asked me to fill in. Now get going.” Doug didn’t realize it, but he articulated the key to choosing wisely. Determining and deferring to who’s boss in your life will affect every decision you make. It just took me longer than Doug to realize that truth. The most important and wisest choice I’ve ever made is to look to God for wisdom in all things. He’s the best boss I’ve ever had.
Finally, given the litany of stupid choices I’ve made over the years, it’s no wonder the following thought haunts me every week, “If my readers knew what God knows about me, they wouldn’t listen to a word I say.” Then I remind myself of St. Paul’s testimony in 1 Timothy 1:15, “Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his immense patience as an example for those who would believe in him and receive eternal life.”
