When we hear the parable of the sower and the way various seeds are planted and either thrive, or don't, we are seeing the consequences of choice, which in barren (Godless) ground shrivels and dies, but in fertile (Eckhart's fecund and divine) ground, thrives. The smallest of our choices can grow into a great herb like the mustard seed in which birds (higher influences) can roost.
Intention is deeply tied at its root to choice; yet I do not use the better parts of my soul to choose, I generally allow the random, mechanical parts of my outer being to choose.
God may be able to do all things, but there is one thing He cannot do; and that is compel me to love him. Love can never be compelled; and if I love because I am commanded to, it is not love. This is a fact that any simpleton ought to recognize; yet fundamentalists of all religions have seemingly forgotten it, which is why they are, in the end, so consistently unloving.
The greatest love consists of allowing the other to choose for themselves. Then, love will either blossom or not, but whether it does or doesn't, it escapes the corruption of compulsion.
I must, in other words, discriminate and see the point at which control ends and love begins; this is where the line of demarcation lies.
More on May 4.