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Two Boats and a Helicopter

Shackelford Funeral Directors • Nov 11, 2015

The flood waters were rising rapidly, so much so that the man living in the house eventually climbed onto his roof seeking refuge.  Soon a boat came by to rescue him, but he declined their offer, declaring, “The Lord will save me!”  The waters continued to rise and another boat came by, again offering him safe passage to higher ground, and again he replied, “The Lord will save me!”  As the water rose even higher, he found himself clinging to the chimney, trying not to be swept away by the current.  A helicopter flew low and dropped a rope ladder so he could escape, but over the noise of the rotors, he shouted, “The Lord will save me!”  After much pleading—but to no avail—the helicopter went in search of others more willing to be rescued.  The current eventually became too much for him to withstand, his grasp weakened, and he was swept away and drowned.

When he reached the Pearly Gates, the Lord met him.  With a hint of condemnation, he looked at God and asked, “Why didn’t you save me?” to which the Lord replied, “I sent two boats and a helicopter.  What more did you want?”

Whether you believe in a higher power or not, the moral to the story is the same.  Sometimes we’re looking for help but we aren’t willing to accept it because it doesn’t look like we think it should.  That holds true throughout life, but most often when dealing with Death.  Anytime someone suffers a loss—whether it’s your home to a fire, your cat to a speeding car, or your spouse to an illness—there are people in your life who are more than willing to help, to be there for you.  But you don’t want to be a burden.  You don’t want people to get tired of hearing you sob over what you’ve lost.  Your family and your friends have their own lives and their own problems and you don’t need to be one of them.

Those are all nice thoughts, designed to help you justify not allowing anyone to see your pain, to see you at your most vulnerable, but they are not designed to allow you to heal.  We all need that help, that shoulder to lean on and someone to listen as we cry and rant and beg for the clock to move backwards.  Granted, it must be on your time table, but you must also be willing to accept what is offered or to reach out when in need.  Your family and your friends will understand and will want to do whatever they can, because they love you and they care about your well-being.  And if you’re the family member or friend that’s reading this, please remember to be patient . . . but gently persistent.  Often people don’t know what they need until it is offered, and a simple, “How are you doing?” or a quick phone call may be the knock that opens the door.  So for those who must watch in dismay as someone crumbles before their eyes, always reach out.  And for those doing the crumbling, take that outstretched hand.  You both will be better for it.

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