Realizing Harmony

I recently got a phone call from a friend who, in the course of the conversation, asked if I’d seen the latest version of an educational seminar. I had to admit, I hadn’t seen it. But something, either in what he said, or the way he said it, made me think to myself, “Is he more interested in staying up on the latest and greatest verbiage and/or graphics as opposed to learning the information to apply it?”

That thought immediately raised the question in my own life: Am I more interested in being a student of accomplishment or being a student in order to accomplish things?

A few nights later, I remembered a parable I’d read years ago in the Wittenburg Door by Mike Yaconelli. “The Door” had awarded it their “Best Editorial Comment” for their 10th Anniversary Issue. It was titled, “The Little Boy Who Wanted to Fight Fires.” And it clearly describes the challenge.

Here it is:

THE LITTLE BOY WHO WANTED TO FIGHT FIRES

Once there was a little boy who, ever since he could remember, wanted to be a fireman. The shrill of the siren and the deep rumble of the racing fire-truck had filled his dreams
almost every night. Deep in his heart there was a longing to someday be able to help people; to save people from the ravaging grasp of a fire. It was not just a childhood fantasy. His was the unmistakable call of destiny.

Growing up never changed his mind. To be sure, he had gone through all the indecision and doubts of adolescence, the well-meaning questions of friends and family who “wondered whether he could be happy as a fireman.” But he never wavered. He was to be a fireman. He was to put out fires.

Oh, how he longed for the day when he would no longer be a spectator, but could participate actively as a fire-fighter. Now, all he could do was watch.

Then the big day arrived. He was accepted at one of the best fireman schools in the country. For three years he immersed himself in his schooling. He spent hours honing his skills on practice fires. He studied fire-fighting theory long into the nights. His teachers were world-renowned.

But still after all these years he had never fought a real fire. As graduation approached, he realized that long-awaited moment was within reach.

But suddenly he began to have doubts. For the first time in his life he was unsure, afraid, and worse yet, questioning whether he ought to be a fireman at all.

It was then that one of his professors suggested he travel to Europe and study under one of the greatest fireman theorists of all time. He would be recommended by his professors and would receive the finest training available. It would last for two years.

The not-so-little boy decided to travel to Europe, and for two years he exhausted himself in dedicated study and became one of the most brilliantly educated firemen in the world. But all he had ever done was put out practice fires. Once again, graduation loomed before him. And, once again, he was haunted by indecision. He knew all about fires and could tell anyone how to fight one; in fact, he knew so much he began to feel that his superior knowledge did, in fact, place him a notch above “ordinary” firemen. He became increasingly concerned that he might have to fight fires with “uneducated” firemen, which could result in him being exposed to unnecessary danger.

It was then that he was offered a position to teach at one of the most respected fireman schools in the country.

He accepted. And for twenty-five years he taught with honors and received recognition worldwide. He died last year, and when they read his memoirs, they came across a strange passage written while on his deathbed:

“I lie here today reviewing my life. I still remember my dream, my passion to be a fireman. More than anything else I wanted to put out fires… but I realized something today. I have never put out a real fire. NEVER.”

What, in our lives – yours and mine – are we spending our time studying in order to avoid DOING? How much more life-satisfaction will we have if we launch out, and actually try to accomplish something with the knowledge we have?