"We can only obey our own polarity," stated American Transcendentalist Ralph Waldo Emerson, "'Tis fine for us to speculate and elect our course, if we must accept an irresistible dictation."  So Emerson observed in "Fate," an essay he published in 1860.  Like all of us, Emerson struggled with the often frustrating balance between what we want to do with what actually happens.  Though we all make plans, though we all develop life visions, big or small, we all know that, as many have said, "Stuff happens."  We never know.

    The ancient Greeks envisioned three spinster sisters who lived in a cave far away from all human habitation.  Together, these sisters rolled out a length of thread for every human being and then, in seemingly arbitrary fashion, snipped it.  The point at which they snipped the thread marked the end of that person's life.  Sometimes the sisters rolled out the thread for some distance, say for the playwright Sophocles, who lived to be ninety.  Other times the sisters snipped the thread very soon after rolling it out, perhaps for the Spartan babies who were deemed deformed at birth and promptly discarded.  Either way, neither gods nor humans could undo the sisters's decision.

    It's a delicate balance.  Even if we accord ultimate sovereignty to God rather than the simple randomness of reality, we nonetheless stand before the same issue:  we walk in profound mystery.