(I Want to be an Oscar)
I have previously written about the exploits of Sir Ernest
Shackleton; the famous British explorer of Antarctica. It seems in his
quest to be the first, he came within 97 miles of the geographical South
Pole. However, it has been said that “close is only good enough in
grenades and nuclear war.” He was a very disappointed fellow, I think.
The man was a visionary, but he neglected to do the two major
things that would surely have won the day. Rather than dogs, he took
ponies. Rather than skis, he decided on “old fashioned shoe leather.”
You see, he had never taken the time to adapt himself, and his team to
the use of such new measures, and he was irrevocably taken up with the
mindset of the nineteenth century, though that century was waning in
favor of the twentieth.
Yes, Sir Ernest was slow to adapt.
But he was no fool. For a few short years later, during “the war to end
all wars,” he brought dogs with him to his next Antarctic exploit. The
South Pole had already been conquered at this point, though not by him,
and he was desperate to do something notable.
Having sent
two ships out, one a ship of exploration and one a ship of supply, he
determined to complete a Trans-Antarctic expedition. Sadly, he failed
when his main vessel was enclosed by ice floes, and crushed by the
immense pressure of the stuff.
Meanwhile, on the other side
of the icy continent, a pitiful group of men and dogs were laying out
food depots; in expectation of Shackleton’s march towards his destiny.
They were emaciated, having marched hundreds of miles towards the
South Pole, their only aim to leave sporadic rations in the snow for
what would be the team of explorers. And like so many before, these poor
men were suffering the effects of scurvy; a potentially-fatal result of
the lack of vitamin C.
The team which deposited food for
others had run out of food for themselves. Not deterred, they continued
to move towards their original campsite, and all the food they would eat
or need. Blizzards raging around them, extreme privation, snow
blindness; at times ferrying one of their dying mates on a sledge.
And the dogs. Oh, the dogs. While the men ate the last shreds of
penguin, and seal which they had shot, the dogs were without food for
two days. So bitterly cold and so hungry they were.
Even
dogs complain. They yelped pleadingly to be fed, to rest, or to plain
give up; even as each tread of their paws brought them closer to food.
Some like Con and Towser were such good-natured animals, so desirous to
please their masters. But enough was enough, and hope was waning; with
every mile they trod.
But with so many such stories, (and this one is no exception,) salvation came from an unexpected source.
For you see, there was one old, bad-natured brute named Oscar. He
incessantly bothered and berated the rest of the pack. More often than
not, the men regretted having the beast with them, (and may have been
prone to “put him out of his misery,” except the mission so desperately
required a minimum number of dogs).
However, the surly old
dog finally came into his own. For when the other dogs seemed on the
verge of giving up, for the wind and cold and hunger, something magical
happened.
“Oscar just lowered his massive head, and pulled as
he never did when things were going well. He even, at times, got a bit
of a run on the sledge and tried to bite the heels of the dog ahead to
make him work… It seemed to us that Oscar was aware that we were looking
for something that would give him a full meal once more.” (Pg. 484,
“Shackleton”)
Well my friends, I don't know about you, but
stuff like this makes me want to shout, "Hallelujah!" I can get excited
about tales like this one.
Oh, you may say, “He was just a
dumb animal.” And granted, he was. But if a dumb animal can rise to the
task, the way Oscar rose to his task, where does that you and me?
I am reminded of the brevity of life, and the strong responsibility
that is ours, as servants of The Most High God. I will not be content
to whine, or to just lay down when the going gets tough.
I
want to be “an Oscar.” I want to pull with all my might; hope against
hope that anything can be accomplished. If need be, I plan to “bite the
heels of the dogs ahead of me;” to encourage them that there’s a work to
be done, and a Christ to be served.
“Seeing how we are
surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us strip off
everything that hinders us, and the sin that so easily entangles us, and
let us run with patience the race that God has set before us.” (Hebrews
12:1, KJV)
By William McDonald, PhD. From (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol.32. Copyright pending
If you wish to copy, share or save this blog, please include the credit line, above
**************
If you would like to see the titles and access hundreds of my blogs from 2015, do the following:
Click
on 2015 in the index to the right of this blog. When my December 31st
blog, "The Shot Must Choose You" appears, click on the title. All my
2015 blog titles will come up in the index
No comments:
Post a Comment