This post was written by Sophie Hirtle, a Humanities Center student fellow.
For my family, staying in a hotel often means watching the home renovation channel together and mercilessly tearing apart the perky hosts and their design choices. We watch people enter a dilapidated, old home and, within the span of thirty minutes, transform it into an idealistic paradise. I have found that the best transformations occur when the contractor involves the family in the process. Together, they are able to create a house that exceeds everyone’s expectations.
When designing a house, it is normal to offer input, expecting that it will be taken into consideration. We want the finished product to reflect who we are and what we value. If the contractor were to completely ignore our vision, their company would quickly go out of business. Why then do we not give ourselves a say when designing our lives under God’s watchful eye?
I began to ask myself this question as I entered my junior year at BYU. Growing up, I found joy in reading, going to art museums, and creating my own book reports. When I was twelve years old, I decided that I wanted to go to graduate school and be a professor of literature, largely as a result of the fulfillment I found in reading and learning about books. However, that goal seemed like an unattainable dream because I assumed that God’s plan would be different from my own. I wanted more than anything to follow this career path, but deep down, I believed it would not happen. Then, I arrived at BYU where I was surrounded by people living the life that I wanted so desperately. I was even lucky enough to teach my first course as an undergrad, a job that left me feeling more fulfilled and authentic than ever before. But that fear still remained. What if I was called somewhere else?
I assumed that God would take the reins and guide me down a different path, that he would instead tell me that I needed to give Him complete control and just sit in the backseat while He directed the course of my life. I thought that I would not have a say in my choices.
This perception of divinity seems to date back well before modern time. Tragedies filled with references to uncontrollable destiny have filled our bookshelves for centuries as we continue our obsession over the interactions between agency and fate. In my current class focused on the genre of the tragedy, we lament the devastating end to the star-crossed lovers, Romeo and Juliet. We question whether Clytemnestra had the right to act for the gods and kill her husband as revenge for the death of their daughter. It is in our nature to constantly wonder what could have been different, if Agamemnon had not sacrificed Iphigenia to win the war, if Friar Laurence had sent out his message just a few minutes earlier. These individuals had desires, and yet they did not come true due to fate, chance, or divine will. They tried to follow their desires, but were horribly unsuccessful in the end. Novels that center around the futility of life continue to grow in popularity because they force us to confront the same terrifying question: Do we really have any control?
If authors like William Shakespeare and Aeschylus could not come up with a concrete answer, I doubt that I, a 23 year old college student from Medford, Oregon, will be able to decide what role our agency plays. But, our agency must play a key role in the direction of our lives, even if the final product seems outside of our control. Romeo and Juliet chose to die to solidify their love, and Clytemnestra chose to kill Agamemnon because of her valorization of her daughter. We do not have the foresight to determine whether their choices were right, they could have very well been the wrong choices to make. But, they acted on what they felt was right, meaning that they could move forward. Often, the fear of making the wrong choice prevents progression, but sometimes it is necessary to act based on what feels right. Even if it ends up being the wrong choice, we are still given the opportunity to learn. To choose is to show the world who we are and what we value. If the fear of fate impedes us from acting, then we become stuck in a cycle of distrust of the divine, never daring to reach out any higher for fear of being told no.
The reality is that when you are building a home, there are certain things that cannot be changed. While watching HGTV with my family, we have seen countless couples who have had to change their plans due to a recently discovered supporting wall or asbestos in the attic. There are circumstances that cannot be changed. And in life, there are incredibly tragic events that we cannot reverse, that we cannot ameliorate, no matter how much we may wish to do so. So, we do what the families in those HGTV shows do: we do the best we can with our current circumstances because that is all we can do.
But, unlike the gods of Agamemnon or the families of Romeo and Juliet, we know that God cares about what we think and how we feel—He wants us to be part of the decision making process, to discuss with Him what our lives will look like after these life-changing events. He does not want to bulldoze our entire foundation in order to create what He wants. In other words, God will not force me to live in a modern glass house when all I have ever wanted is a little cottage Perhaps the rooms may not be as large as I originally planned, or I might have to take out a window or two, but it will still be a home where I can see reflections of myself in the overall design.
Control is not and never was God’s plan. He guides us gently, but it is up to us to decide exactly how we will follow His advice. As John Steinbeck reminds us in his literary masterpiece East of Eden, we all possess timshel, which he translates as “thou mayest.” We all may choose. We get to decide who we will become, and isn’t that a wonderful gift? I have found who I want to become in the humanities, and I have begun to realize that my dream of becoming a literature professor matters to God because it is central to who I am. Thus, rather than living with the fear that He will say no, perhaps it is best to continue with hope that He will say yes. And if not, he will work with me to find another way to build that beautiful house of my dreams.
