The Choices we Shouldn't Have
how many choices do we need?
I sat at a light on Route 19 last night, and on either side of me were cars as far as I could see. Not the ones on the road, the ones in the two new car lots on both sides of the road. You name the style — if I was looking for a car (which I am) and had the cash to buy a brand new one (which I don’t), I could spend an entire day of my life looking at the inventory of just those two car dealers.
I bought breakfast cereal at the store, “Great Grains,” the Banana Nut variety. When I got home and unpacked, my daughter said, “I don’t really like those. What happened to the Special K with Strawberries. I mean, I’ll do Honey Bunches of Oats in a pinch—”
Then there’s me — I’m a radio geek. I got one for my birthday and I love it so much all I can think is that I really need another one, you know, for my living room. But I went online, and there are other models of the same radio: some have better antennas, some are wifi, one has a digital display instead of the cool, retro knob on the first one I saw, but the knob is great so I guess there’s no need for a digital display … I finally had to shut my laptop after about 30 minutes because I got so overwhelmed with my options, I couldn’t remember why I wanted another radio in the first place.
Lots of choices, overwhelming options. But …
There are choices we just shouldn’t have.
In a Wall Street Journal article by Sumathi Reddy, she writes that about one out of five couples who come to HRC Fertility, a network of fertility clinics in Southern California, doesn’t need help getting pregnant.
Wait a minute. What?
Yes, 1 out of 5 couples coming to a fertility clinic aren’t having trouble getting pregnant. Instead, they come for what is called family balancing, or non-medical sex selection. They usually have one, two or three children of one gender and want their next child to be of the other sex, said Daniel Potter, medical director of HRC Fertility, which includes nine clinics.
Women who want to select their baby’s sex undergo the costly and cumbersome process of in vitro fertilization (IVF) to create embryos that are also genetically tested before being implanted. Although the testing, broadly referred to as preimplantation genetic diagnosis, or PGD, is often used to test for genetic diseases, it can also identify the sex of the embryos. The IVF/PGD process can cost as much as $15,000 to $20,000 per cycle and isn’t covered by many insurance plans.
You’re thinking I’m kidding, or exaggerating. I’m not.
A 2008 study in the journal Fertility and Sterility found in an online survey that among U.S. clinics that offered preimplantation genetic diagnosis (PGD,) 42% would do it for non-medical sex selection.
What has our desire to choose done to us? Is the overwhelming number of breakfast cereals making us feel like *every* life event is up to us? Are the number of items on Amazon warping us, turning us into control-freaks who have to pick what kind of kids we end up with?? Are we so accustomed to getting the color we want, and the features we want, at the price we want (and delivered in 48 hours or less or perhaps even earlier by drone) that we’ve become unable to just let it go?
We’re not the only ones in the world. We’re not masters of the universe; we’re not even masters of our own universe. The human condition of sin has always led us to build Towers of Babel so we can climb to heaven, or ask Jesus which one of can sit at His right or left side when His kingdom comes or even, from the very beginning in the Garden, to say "yes" to the temptation to eat of the fruit, so we can be what?
Well we’re not. We don’t have the power of life and death, and everything about our character is polluted with arrogance, pride, and foolishness. So let’s choose the better option: acknowledge the God who exists, who lays claim to this Earth, this universe, and who has loved us from before we were even conceived. Let’s remember that He is good, wise, consistent and faithful.
And let’s sit back, and for the biggest things in life — let’s just let Him choose.