Who
of us can forget the infamous Twilight Zone series? Rod Serling and all that. I
think the world lost something precious when he left us.
I was watching The Twilight Zone marathon
last night, it being New Year’s Eve, and saw one of the few I think I never
watched. Oh, I don’t remember the name of the segment. Did we ever remember the
titles? But will we ever forget the plots?
It seems “Joe Randolph” was the next
astronaut scheduled to journey into the heavenlies. Of course, he was excited
beyond words. And then the clincher.
He
had been selected to pilot an experimental spacecraft; one unlike any other
that had ever been built. One that would exceed the speed of light, and journey
a million million miles; in pursuit of a distant civilization. The scientists
warned him. He would be placed in a state of suspended animation, and the round
trip would require forty years. Though he would return looking very much the
way he left, few of his friends and relatives would be left alive to greet him.
Four long decades. Almost half a century.
Well, the astronaut went about his
business, and his business was training. During the course of one day, about a month
prior to leaving, Joe ran into a beautiful research scientist, in the hallway
of the training facility. Her name was “Rose.” And Rose was a visual and
emotional delight.
Though a thousand psychologists might have
recommended against it, the two fell in love, in short order, and quickly
realized the paradox set before them. By the time Joe returned, young and ready
to resume life, Rose would have grown old, and on the threshold of “the next
life.”
The day arrived, and Joe “buttoned” himself
into the spacecraft. “Three, Two, One,” and the rocket lifted into the darkness
of space. Rose stood watching as the missle, (and her hopes with it)
disappeared from sight.
It was an uneventful flight, all in all.
Joe reached his planned destination, and found… not a sign of life. Then,
regretfully, he reboarded the little spacecraft and set a course for home.
Now we join Mission Control. After almost
half a century our hero returns.
“Jim, do we have telemetry? Funny, we lost
all communications just after he left earth.”
“Yeah, everything is working fine. We have
voice contact.”
The astronaut opened the hatch, and a
different world than the one he’d ever known starred back at him. Then again,
he received some pretty strange stares from NASA scientists, and what few of
his friends remained to greet him.
Oh, Joe knew what he was; what he’d become.
For he wasn’t the man he was. Far from it. Forty years hung heavy on his
features; mixed with the absence of natural sunlight. His skin was jaundiced,
and wrinkles cut deep lines in his face. Not how they’d expected him to come
back.
Then the prettiest thing He’d seen in those
forty long years saundered out of a nearby doorway. Rose! But something was
wrong. A smile had momentarily lit Joe’s face; and then abject despair. For the
love of his life was still… young! And more beautiful than ever.
It didn’t take long, and as Paul Harvey is
fond of saying, “Now you know the rest of the story.” For Joe had made the
sacrifice to end all sacrifices. He knew what he had to do; long before the
interstellar spacecraft left earth. He would refrain from stepping into that
youth-preserving device. He would age naturally, as would Rose. On his return
they would marry, and spend the last few years of their lives together. At
least that was his plan.
Tears coursed down Rose’s cheeks. Oh, she
tried to smile, and she struggled to embrace him, and promise him her love. But
Joe would have none of it. Her words dismayed him as much as her beauty.
“Joe, I couldn’t lose you. After you left
the scientists agreed to place me in a state of suspended animation. I’ve been
in that device for forty years. I waited for you. I’d hoped we might marry. But
now…”
The astronaut was speechless, and barely
managed a few words. “I can’t. We can’t. Go, please go.” And he pointed towards
the door. He turned from Rose, shaking his head in disbelief, snubbing back a
groan, and hiding a tear.
A research scientist stepped up to Joe; a
look of amazement on his face. His words were powerful.
“Joe, in my lifetime I have never witnessed
such selfless sacrifice. Those forty years must have been interminable. No one
to talk to. Abject loneliness. Minutes passing like hours. Each year adding a
few more gray hairs, and a few more wrinkles. Allowing your life to ebb away;
without the comfort of a single human being. All for the love of a woman.”
Ironic. Strange. Unusual. But I think Joe
has something to teach us.
Mission. It’s all about Mission. And
Mission requires a vision that sees the end in the beginning. Nothing
must be allowed to deter us. To set the azimuth (course) on the compass we call
life, and run towards Mission with all our might.
Too many get sidetracked. Too many stop to
pick flowers. Too many give good, and forget best. Too many give lip service to
Mission, and shout mediocrity.
Florence Griffith Joyner was one of the
most gifted female runners of the last century. After winning one particular
Olympic event, a reporter asked her…
“Florence, when did you know you had won
the gold?”
Her answer was visionary.
“Before the gun went off!”
Joe and Florence ran for an earthly crown.
In one case a woman, in the other a small chunk of gold metal. For all his
efforts, Joe lost. For all her efforts, Florence succeeded. But we run for a
heavenly crown. And we cannot slow down, nor let up, nor ultimately lose.
For if we would achieve Mission, if we
would attain Greatness, if we would attain God’s plans for our lives, it will
require the kind of foresightedness and effort that Joe and Florence exhibited.
It will require the kind of Vision,
Irrevocable Decision and Effort that visualizes the laurel resting firmly on
our heads… “before the gun goes off.”
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