Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXI

It happened near Natchitoches, LA back in the late 1800s. An old man, who lived alone, kept having some spells where he would pass out, basically lapsing into a temporary coma. At first, they were rare and would last only a short period, but with the passage of time, they became more frequent and each spell lasted longer until that last time when he apparently had that final one. In those days, many of the less affluent citizens were buried without being embalmed, as was the case with this man. He was placed in a cheap pine box and buried on his property with only a small wooden headstone erected at the head of his grave. Before many years had passed, the headstone became a victim of the elements, and just went back to the earth from whence it came, leaving nothing there to mark the spot. In the early 1940s a construction crew was doing some work in the area where the old man's home once stood, and while they were digging, they accidentally made contact with the coffin, which they dug up and opened. What they found horrified them. The old man's skeleton was lying face down in the coffin, and there was evidence that he had tried to get out. Apparently he had unwittingly been buried alive! Someone made a terrible mistake, but as I think back over my life, I realize that I've made the same mistake myself....several times. Well, I've never actually buried anyone alive, but I've done something similar. What I've done is proclaim myself the coroner, and pronounce them dead while there's still plenty of life left in them. Have you ever done that? Let me give you an example: I'm thinking of a certain young man who, as a teenager, was a total renegade, and after I had been around him just a few times, I wrote him off as hopeless. I wish you could see him today....a hardworking family man, a great dad, and a devout Christian who is doing his best to raise his kids in the way they should go. You see, what I did was judge him before God was through forming him. It was stupid of me to make such a harsh condemnation of such a young individual. That would be like tasting a potato that has just been placed in the oven to bake, and immediately dismissing it as too crunchy. How smart would it be for me to go see your new house that's under construction and decide right away that it's too drafty, even though its walls haven't yet been put up? So, is there an age that an individual reaches when it's okay to write him off as hopeless? Actually, it's not so much the age as it is the stage of life, because my teenage years are now just a distant memory, yet I'm still under construction. There's only one way to tell: Check his pulse, and if he still has one, there's still hope. The only time it's okay to bury someone is when he's dead. Preston