My Hut’s On Fire

beach1

Dear Jack ~ what follows is a true story.  Several years ago a shipwrecked gentlemen found himself alone washed up on a small island in the South Pacific.  Not trained in the art of survival he was surely doomed as he had not the skills to equip him for this daunting plight.  He foraged for food, attempted to create fire, and occupy his mind while awaiting his fate.  He scavenged for branches and leaves to build a small shelter to protect him for the frosty night air and countless potential predators.

After a few weeks, with his bony face sunken in and in complete despair, he through his hands in the air asking “why me?”  As his stomach panged, he entered the wooded landscape in attempt to find microgreens or small edibles and when he returned, the small hut he constructed of palm branches and fig leafs, was engulfed in an inferno the likes of which he had never seen before.  How is this possible he asked?  He threw himself on the beach, the taste of saltwater in his cheeks and sand in his gums.  After some time, he looked up and saw a Coast Guard boat.  As the vessel beached and the Captain approached the man hugged him and clenched him in his arms.  “How on earth did you ever find me?,” muttered the man.  “I followed the smoke.”

What’s my point?  You know my point.  It’s in times of complete despair when things seem hopeless, the grind is painful and the heat is turned up that we grow and thrive.  We all go through seasons of pruning; it’s how we react that creates achievers.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *