By: Elizabeth Abrahamsen
There were two men lost at sea. Their ship had sank, and they were treading water. They each had a life preserver from the ship. The first man observed his companion and asked, “Why do you look so calm? Aren’t you afraid of drowning?”
“I am,” the second man replied, “but I’m holding on to my life preserver until the rescue vessel comes.”
“I am also holding my life preserver,” the first man stated, “but it isn’t helping me as yours seems to.”
“Show it to me,” the second man replied.
He examined his friend’s life preserver and said, “Ah, I see the problem. This isn’t a life preserver. It’s a decoration from the walls of the ship. Let me get you a real life preserver.”
“Oh, no thank you,” said the first man. “I’m happy with this one.”
“But that’s not a life preserver at all,” the second man protested. “It’s a stone painted to look like a life preserver, it will not help you, it will harm you.”
“That’s absurd,” the first man snapped. “My life preserver is the same as yours. It came from the same ship. See? It’s the same shape. They’re both circles. Mine has a hole in the middle, as does yours. Yours is white and red, as is mine. Yours has ropes, and look, here are my ropes. These are the same, they must be.”
“They aren’t the same though,” the second man retorted. “They’re made from different substances. Mine is firm, but yours is rock hard. Mine is white and red because the rubber coating is white and red, yours has been painted white and red, you can even see some spots where the paint has flaked off. And look at the ropes on yours, they’re not actual ropes that could be loosened and lengthened, they’re rigid, made of the same unyielding substance your preserver is made from. Please, there are many preservers floating here in the water, allow me to get one for you.”
“I’m comfortable with what I have,” he replied.
“Okay,” the second man said, although he looked troubled.
They continued treading water together as they waited for the rescue ship to arrive. The first man observed how his companion would grow tired and lean on his life preserver. He tried to do that with his own, but as soon as he stopped treading water, he began to sink every time. His friend would offer him an arm and help brace him from time to time. He accepted help, but he continuously refused the offer of a proper life preserver.
Exhausted and irate, the first man asked the second, “How can you float there so calmly, this isn’t a vacation, it’s an emergency, we may die! Aren’t you afraid?”
With kindness in his eyes, the second man replied, “I am afraid, but I am trusting in my life preserver, when I’m tired it holds me up. I can put all my weight on it and rest. Even if my legs give out, the life preserver will continue floating.”
“That hasn’t been my experience,” the first man complained. “When I stop treading water, I begin to sink beneath the waves. I haven’t been able to rest since the ship sank.” Anticipating the second man’s next question the first man snapped, “And no, I don’t want your life preserver.”
The second man thought for a second and said, “My life preserver is light, see I can hold it up over my head while I tread water. I can choose to let it go, and support myself, or I can choose to hold onto it and allow it to help me. It floats on the water and can hold, not only its own weight, but also mine. Can yours do that?”
“Of course it can,” the first man replied, “but that’s part of the problem with your life preserver. It’s light because it’s hollow, it floats so easily because it has no substance. Mine is strong, firm and solid.”
“It may seem hollow because it’s light,” said the second man, “but it isn’t. It’s filled all the way through with a buoyant substance that allows it, and me, to float.”
Disregarding this, the first man continued, “What’s more, my preserver makes me stronger. When I use this preserver, I am strengthening the muscles in my legs because I tread water more. I am increasing my lung capacity because I am breathing harder as I exercise, which will help me when I need to hold my breath. So you see, my life preserver is actually superior to yours.”
The second man looked thoughtful. “If I wasn’t here,” he replied, “this life preserver would still be floating. It doesn’t need me to stay afloat. I am clinging to it, but I am not carrying it, it is carrying me. What do you think would happen to yours if you weren’t here? Would it float?”
“It would certainly still float, the same as yours!” the first man replied indignantly. “Just look!” he exclaimed, “I will let go of it, and you will see.” He let go of his life preserver and it abruptly began tumbling down beneath the waves. Stunned, the man dove down to retrieve it. When he resurfaced, he was more exhausted than ever, clutching his life preserver and weeping.
“Okay,” the first man conceded. “You can put your life preserver on me.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” the second man said. “See? If I place it over your head, you will simply fall through the middle. No, you must take hold of it yourself.”
“But then I would have to let go of my life preserver!” the first man cried. “It’s the only thing keeping me afloat!”
“Is it?” asked the second man. “When you let it go, it sank, but you remained afloat.”
The first man embraced his life preserver sadly. “I’ve been holding on to this ever since the ship sank. This was supposed to be my lifeline until rescue arrives.”
“My friend,” the second man said gently, “let it go. Let me share my life preserver with you, it can sustain both of us.”
What is your life preserver made of? Is it carrying you, or are you carrying it? Jesus is my life preserver, and I would like to share him with anyone who is struggling to stay afloat.
Lone Star Liz 