free will

You Will Not Complete What You Don't Begin

Cast your bread upon the waters,  for you will find it after many days.

Give a portion to seven, or even to eight, for you know not what disaster may happen on earth. If the clouds are full of rain, they empty themselves on the earth, and if a tree falls to the south or to the north, in the place where the tree falls, there it will lie.

He who observes the wind will not sow,  and he who regards the clouds will not reap.

As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything.

In the morning sow your seed, and at evening withhold not your hand, for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good.
— Ecclesiastes 11:1-6


You Will Not Complete what You Don’t Start

“He who observes the wind will not sow, and he who regards the clouds will not reap.” Ecclesiastes 11:4. This certainly paints a picture. When we are trying to decide whether or not to take that job, have that conversation, move to that city, start that process, we can feel consumed with anxiety not knowing whether it is the right call or not. 

Control I seek to have that ends up controlling me. That is how decision making feels sometimes. I don’t know all the variables involved so I circle around a decision trying to look at it from every possible angle, trying to guess the what ifs; to foresee the unforeseeable issues. Deep down inside, beyond discernment what you and I want is a guarantee of success. 

Often what we are really thinking is I will move forward once I know the exact steps to an error-free outcome. Since we have not been given such agency, the activity can be exhausting and fruitless. 

Sometimes as believers we struggle to see the Bible relevant and helpful in the nitty-gritty everyday worldly life we have to live. We may feel the Bible is an archaic book filled with spiritual things that have little to say about regular everyday life. This passage however, says otherwise.

Stewardship is a Call to Action.

The first two verses open with action verbs: cast and give. Interestingly both are outward driven actions. That is, both casting and giving imply parting from something; letting go. The call to cast..

Choice, Repentance, and Our Need for Jesus

The year was 1998. The news was all headlines reporting the president’s sexual indiscretion, and how his lie about it could cost him the presidency. The details were messy revealing more information than I cared to know. I was 26, fresh out of college, and in my first real job. A young Christian taking in what was happening. As the information unveiled and I tried to navigate it with new faith, I remember talking with my roommate about the importance of a moment.


That moment, for which a president risked going to trial, had a before and after. I imagined time rewound like in a movie where the footage goes back through a myriad of interactions, thoughts, and choices. And pause at a place before those headlines had a reason for existing. A time where instead of an indiscretion covered by the 6 o’clock news, there is only a moment. A set of minutes with a choice to make. A moment that once allowed to happen, once pursued, would culminate in hard and hurtful consequences.

That moment inevitably was followed by many more. The reel continued with many other small choices along the way after that. This shed light for me. Reverse engineering that headline, helped me see beyond the harm of misused responsibility and the weight of the consequences, the monumental importance of what we can do with a small fraction of time.

A sobering realization hit me then and hits me even more so now that I’m older: I am no different than that president. I may not have engaged in inappropriate physical contact with a subordinate, but I too face choices every single day which at the time seem infinitesimal in size, and yet carry great potential for harm. And I don’t always choose wisely, even though I know better. This recalls Paul’s famous words, “For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate” (Romans 7:15 ESV).

The idea of choice is so central to humanity – free will; which is tightly bound to its limitation – sinful to the core. We are beings with the freedom to will our choices, all the while our choices stem from a sinful heart. Our very disposition is toward sin. So where to from here?

I remember as a young college student what impacted my faith the most was to watch people live regular lives in a radically different way. For example, this story: when my friend and his siblings were small, his father punished the dog for a gate opened in the backyard. The kids were upset too. After learning the dog hadn’t done it, he apologized to the kids and to the dog in front of the kids, explaining he had been unfair to him. Showing no one was too insignificant to apologize to, and no wrong too small that the opportunity to make right should be passed.

It’s a very small example that made a deep dent in terms of how a life in Christ looks different. The father modelled a heart of humility for his small children, and for me, years later through the telling of the story. Which no doubt, was part of years of intentional living on the part of my friend’s parents, to shape their faith.    

Last year, during a sermon, the pastor, who was in the army for several years before attending seminary, explained the term repent. It was a revelation for me who loves words. Repent is used as a military term, he clarified, to signal a troop to turn and walk in a different direction. As he marched across the stage, he illustrated by stopping to shift the direction of his steps. Literally, repent looked like turning away from where he was heading to walk in a different direction. That’s an image worth a thousand headlines.

This paints a picture of immeasurable grace and hope for me. I think back to that situation splattered all over the media back in 1998. I think of my own seemingly “smaller”, certainly more private, and equally harmful sin, which can and will manifest itself throughout the thousands of minutes that comprise a day’s moments. All those tiny choices I make every day. From what I will eat for lunch, to rolling my eyes and be rude to the person on the counter preparing my order. The picture is both confronting and comforting.

The free will I use to roll my eyes also grants me the opportunity to choose to apologize for my rudeness to someone who for minimum wage is helping put together my meal. I can choose to give my husband kindness in the form of a quiet restful evening or tell him I’m sorry for being short with him for needing something that doesn’t suit me. It’s so hard to turn around and will myself to walk in a different direction. Yet I am called to repent.  

I see the next hundreds of minutes ahead of me, filled with moments where I get to use my free will. I imagine some will be non-moral choices like what to shoes to wear. But I also know that all of them are pregnant with potential for sin. I can pick certain shoes merely out of envy, for example.

This is where Paul’s words really resonate. If ever my utter need for Jesus is made clear to me is in this tension. Knowing better yet choosing worse. Knowing what is worse and still walking right to it. Friends, this is what we need that our free will can’t do for us. To be saved from ourselves we need help from outside of ourselves. We need Jesus.

To make wise decisions when we don’t want to. To change the direction where our wrong choices take us. To receive the grace each small set of minutes holds along with our capacity to sin, we need Jesus.