If you had the option to live your current life here on earth forever, would you choose to do so?
We recently went to a play put on by a local high school. Tuck Everlasting. It was a new story to me. Is it new to you? If so, I'll tell you a little bit about it quickly and painlessly:
Jesse Tuck drank water from a magic spring that causes him to remain the age of 17. Forever. No death, no aging. None of that nonsense. His parents and his brother also drank the water. Jesse has been the age of seventeen for 102 years when Winnie, a young girl, stumbles across "17 year old" Jesse and they become friends. Eventually Winnie learns about the magic water and has to make a choice. Drink the magic water, become immortal. Or not.
It seems like an easy choice.
You might surmise that the decision for Winnie is obvious. Drink the water, little girl!! Stay young forever!!
Often I find myself in the company of my little grandson. I'm 63. He's one year old. The math is simple, the facts are painfully clear. I most likely will not be alive still to experience much of his young adulthood.
Sometimes I hold him a little bit after he falls asleep. I just look at his precious angelic sleeping face and start thinking about the above math problem.
And I pray as I hold him close. For him as he learns and grows, for his parents as they raise him, for his older brother as they grow up together. I ponder what the years will bring to all my children and grandchildren. I pray for them all. And I'll be honest, sometimes a tear slides down my cheek.
Would I drink the magic water if it were given to me? Would you?
In the stage play, the Tuck family urged Winnie to not drink the water. They grew to view immortality as a curse. They had been stuck at the same age, never progressing to the next step in life. Or death. Jesse would forever be doing only what a 17 year old would do. Watching those around him mature and live full lives. And then having the pain of watching those around them die, one by one. While his family lived on in a perpetual rerun of life happening to everyone but them. Never dying. But.... never really living either.
Winnie didn't drink the water.
As Jesse would tell Winnie: "Don't be afraid of death Winnie, be afraid of the un-lived life. "
The life we live is a series of hills and valleys. Really sweet, wonderful times peppered by seriously tragic, sad times. The good, the bad. It's life. It's beautiful. It's bittersweet.
At age 17, I questioned why life had to include watching my dad lose his battle with leukemia and die. But it wasn't the end of my life. There was plenty of good to come. And, of course, plenty of bad. At age 63, I look back and see that God used everything that happened to me, good and bad, to make me who I am. It's okay. It's very okay. I am indeed living life.
So there's no "magic water" that will keep us young forever. But scripture tells us that Jesus offers us living water. " But those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. It becomes a fresh, bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life." John 4:14
Jesus gives us living water!! "For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whoever believes in him will have life everlasting." John 3:16
If you could choose between living life forever here in this imperfect world, no end in sight..... or living our truly brief life here with hope and strength for each day, and with the promise of eternity in heaven where there is no sorrow, no pain, no more death, no more troubles....?? Good news! You CAN choose!! I don't know about you, but to me that seems like a seriously easy decision to make. My dad made that decision. He's waiting for me. Along with so many others there with him.
And.... I'll be waiting too. For my family and friends. For the little guy in the above picture. The hope of heaven with the circle unbroken makes this brief life so much better.
Tuck LIFE Everlasting!
Reach out to Jesus. Drink the water He gives!
Would you?
For the first twelve years of my education I attended the same school system. Tiny little town, tiny little school, tiny little class sizes. There wasn't much mobility in family life back then, so for the most part the class members in Kindergarten went through all 12 years together and graduated high school together.
Though I was never at the top of the list for good grades, I did okay. My best subject was a class called Typing. On modern typewriters of that day. Non-electric until we hit the big time and got a new electric typewriter.
And now, in the current times, there is no such class in high school called Typing. I recently read a headline that said: "Keyboarding, once taught in high school, is now part of the curriculum for elementary kids." Not a separate class, just kind of built in to the curriculum. For little kids.
Hmmm. I excelled in a course that no longer even exists. Little kids do it.
I can sure enough tell you a class I did not excel in during those twelve years of education. One clue what the name of the class was:
Do you know what this is? It's a seam ripper. It was my continual companion in the class in which I did not excel. I wore out my seam ripper and had wounds to show for it. The class? Home Ec.
The cooking part of the class was no problem. Chubby girls can cook. But the sewing part? It was my nemesis. Straight seams? Not too bad. Zippers? Oh my word no way. I lost count of the number of times I used the seam ripper to tear out a zipper gone wrong. Kind of surprised I don't still have scars from stab wounds. Those things are SHARP!!
Sadly, if you look at my PERMANENT RECORD, you'll find not an A, B, C, D or F for that class. You'll find INCOMPLETE. Yes, boys and girls. I couldn't even finish the class. Because of seam rippers, zippers, stab wounds, high anxiety. And probably elevated blood pressure. The class was almost life threatening to me. 😱 😀😜
Several years ago at a class reunion for my hubby's class (same school), we did a tour of the high school. It was fun looking around at all the changes. Until we came to the old room that housed Home Ec. I think it's called Life Skills now or something. It was the same room and still looked fairly similar to the old Home Ec room. After we'd been in there a few minutes I kind of sneaked out of the room. Couldn't take it one more minute. If ever I were to have a full blown anxiety attack, it was about to happen right then and there. Visions of seam rippers. Hands shaking from memories of messed up zippers. "Failure" screaming in my head.
One might presume that I learned absolutely nothing about sewing from my INCOMPLETE class called Home Ec.
About 15 years ago, some thirty years after graduating high school, I found myself needing curtains for a newly purchased modest little camping trailer. There weren't any ready-made curtains the correct size to purchase for these windows.
So. I decided to sew some curtains. Yes. I bought a little basic sewing machine at Walmart. El Cheapo.
I took it out of the box and sat it on the table. And plugged it in. I took the spool of thread and stood there holding it, staring at the sewing machine. Beads of sweat on my brow, minimal tremors in my hands, fear of failure in my mind.
And then, the most remarkable thing happened. Without even referring to the instruction manual, I filled the bobber with thread and then promptly threaded the machine. As if I'd been doing it for years. I sat down, placed the material in the proper place, lowered the pressure foot, and commenced to sew. Yes, it was a simple task to the average person, but to me I'd just won a victory over failure. I didn't use a seam ripper. Not once. And the curtains worked well.
If you tested me today on all the things I learned in Geometry, Algebra, History, Chemistry.... I probably wouldn't pass the test.
And the thing I failed at? Sewing? Hmmm.
Failure's not such a bad thing. You can learn a lot from failure. Maybe even, dare I say, you can learn more from failure than success?
But oh, how it hurts to fail.
For the record, I don't really own any clothes that have zippers in them anymore. Except blue jeans. Purchased at the local store for chubby girls. Where I shop at right after I down a dozen cookies I just baked.
