This is a parable I heard once in a meeting. I have modified it slightly but I'm sure you've heard it before.
One day I was walking along the beach. I saw an old man walking toward me. Every so often, he would kneel down, pick something up and study it for a moment. Then, he would either put it back on the beach or throw it into the sea.
As I drew near to Him, I noticed that the beach was littered with starfish, washed up by the tide. The old man was searching for live ones and returning them to the sea.
When we were close enough to speak, I told Him how pointless His efforts were. There were too many of them. He could not possibly make a difference.
In reply, He threw a living starfish into the sea. It made a difference to that one. Then, He leaned closer and said, I could use a little help.
Many years ago, someone scraped me off the beach where I lay dying and threw me back into the sea. Now, I walk the beach with the old man. There are still too many. It's still difficult to make a difference. Some days I just don't see the point. Other days I see I made the right decision. Those are the days that matter.
*Dedicated to all those who died on the beach.*
-- Edited by Wolfie on Friday 5th of February 2010 10:44:20 PM
Freddie was a sponsee of mine about 10 years ago. I was also his caseworker when he stayed in the recovery house I worked at. He was a chronic slipper. Reminded me of me. They found him dead in a night shelter yesterday morning, drug overdose. I saw him about two weeks prior to that. I remember my wife gave him a hug and said it's good to see you back Freddie. There were tears in his eyes but they were barely visible behind the tombstones. He came back to some meetings, tried again. But Barleycorn already had him in a death grip.
Sorry to hear that wolfie. I've got an old friend, room mate, work mate, and drinking drugging buddy that's been awol since last february and I fear the worst. you don't have to look far to see what a horrible disease this is.
