Heather Reed, an Adventures in Missions Storyteller and World Race Alumna felt like she was just existing. A year after returning from the World Race, she found herself in a dry period, until one day, something happened that made her start paying attention.
We were driving north from Atlanta when I saw the truck flipped over on its hood, a man’s legs sticking out from beneath it. Another man crouched next to it, hands on his head, screaming. His friend, I knew, was dead.
I only saw it for a second but for long minutes afterward, I couldn’t speak. The man I love kept one hand on the wheel and, with the other, grabbed onto mine. I laid my cheek on his shoulder and quietly tried to breathe.
It takes awhile to come back from a moment like that, doesn’t it?
I started to imagine this man with his legs protruding from beneath the car, the life he lived, the job he worked, the woman he loved. Did he know when he hopped in the truck how his ride would end?
I really hoped he hadn’t.
In college I had a poetry professor who read Mary Oliver to us by the book-full. I got stuck on Oliver’s “The Summer Day” poem, where she says,
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?
Sitting in the car, holding his hand, I felt caught in the midst of the wildness of life and the preciousness of it. A man died that day, as many men will do every day, but this one I’d seen. This one I felt I knew. This one I felt I owed.
So when we stopped for lunch at our favorite little place on the Square, I ordered a favorite dish and ate with gusto, licking my fingers and drinking the last drops.
When we went kayaking on the lake, I didn’t hesitate to hang my feet overboard and feel the cool water run over them.
When we sat on the couch later that night, I kept the talking to a minimum, allowing myself to enjoy the silent comfort of being wrapped in his arms, watching the candles flicker.
And I asked myself: What will you do with your one wild and precious life?
And the answer that came back was clear:
I will live it.
I will learn the way to savor simple food and cheap wine the way a foodie does the gourmet.
I will wear out the paper of my notebook with words until something is birthed of them.
I will surround my table with people I love and people who love me. I will learn what it takes to stay with them through rejoicing and mourning.
And I will know sacrifice and heartache equally as well as joy and the fullest of loves because I will be daring enough to risk everything to find them.
I will live this one wild and precious life.
Will you?
photos via Lacee Peloquin, thelipstickgospel, the_venture_mag, and shiftingground
This story was originally featured on Venture Magazine, a monthly online publication Adventures in Missions. A group of dedicated World Race Alumni run Venture Magazine, but you can submit your own stories of adventure too! To see the current issue of Venture Magazine, click here.
