A few years back, I had the opportunity to join a friend in jumping off a 30- or 40-foot railroad bridge into murky water. Really dumb, right? Shouldn’t be done even if your friend insists that it’s fun. I knew that to be true going in. I’d heard Joni Eareckson Tada’s story, seen it on film. She dove into a lake and hit her head on a rock just beneath the surface, a rock she could not see because the water was murky. She broke her neck and ended up paralyzed for life, confined to a wheelchair, unable to do most things for herself. (She is, I must say, able to do some really remarkable things, but she is paralyzed.)
I thought of Joni as I clung to that railroad trestle staring at the rushing water below. I knew I’d hit the rock my friend had missed for years. I’d die or be crippled for life. Every ounce of sense within me screamed, Don’t jump into murky water!
I jumped anyway. It took me a half an hour to summon enough stupidity to overcome my perfectly rational fear, but I jumped – twice. The second time was only slightly less terrifying than the first. It was not fun.
I’m reminded right now of the redneck’s famous last words. You know what they are, right?
“Hey, Bubba! Watch this!”
I have no desire whatsoever to jump off a bridge into murky water again. For that matter, I don’t have the slightest yearning to jump off anything other than a diving board or the edge of a pool into any kind of water. (Maybe out of a canoe into a fairly calm river or a calm lake.)
I don’t like doing things I know to be really dumb. It’s really dumb to do really dumb stuff knowing that it’s really dumb. Doing really dumb stuff is how you end up in the back of an ambulance in great pain.
Just had to get that off my chest.
1 comment:
Must be a guy thing; by age 13 girls start to outnumber boys, even though there are more boys born than girls. Sigh. God compensates, but even He has a problem. He must have something wonderful in mind for you.
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