"Hanging on by a thread"

by Bob Perks © 2001

A friend of mine is desperate. He told me he was "Hanging on by a thread."

I believe we are at that crossing point in the Autumn season. Many of the leaves have already fallen. The beautiful, radiant colors that decorated the hillsides have now turned brown. Although a ride in the countryside is still breathtaking, it has lost a little of it's luster.

That's how my friend sees his life. The once sparkling, bubbly personality is much like the leaves that reached their max and now just hang there waiting to fall. But my friend is just barely hanging on.

Hearing my friend speak so dimly about the most precious thing we have, life, just sent me into a sadness I haven't experienced since I too, was depressed enough to want to die.

Oh, he really doesn't want to die. But he is holding a funeral for his vibrant spirit that once lived inside of him. He thinks it's dying. He wants to bury it. But you see that's the problem. It is buried. Buried inside him beneath layers of doubt and foolish thoughts of failure. He's smothered it to the point where it too, is hanging on by a thread.

But here is how life works.

He's telling me this over the phone yesterday just as I am looking out my window toward my back yard. It's covered with leaves. I hate raking leaves. This will sound terrible, but I usually wait until all or most of the leaves have fallen and the great Autumn winds have swept across my property. That's right. I'm hoping that most of them blow away onto someone else's land. It's not all that bad. The guy across the street needs the exercise more than I do.

Well, here I am having this conversation about life and my friend's failing marriage. He believes his wife isn't faithful to him. In fact he knows it. Some guy named Allan she speaks about in her sleep. There's been others before him, too. But he loves her so much that through the years he has internalized his pain. That is until now. Now he has lost his will, his energy.

Just when he tells me he is hanging on by a thread, a sudden gust of wind passes by and the leaves on that tree begin to fall like snow. It really is a wonderful sight. As quickly as it started, the wind suddenly stops. There hanging from a branch is this leaf. Suspended in mid air. From my vantage point I thought for sure it must be touching something. It wasn't.

I went downstairs, still listening to my friend re-hashing his long list of why his life is so bad. I walked into the drive way and now standing underneath the leaf, I am totally confused. It is attached to nothing. It is just there. Now obviously it must be caught in a web. But from where I stood there wasn't even a glimmer of a web. As if stopped magically in mid air, this leaf had halted it's journey.

It was perfect timing.

"Bill, there's a leaf hanging here in mid air," I said.

"What?"

"A leaf that was supposed to hit the ground has suddenly stopped and is just dangling there," I told him.

"So?"

"That's your answer. Think about that leaf. Somewhere up there on a higher branch this leaf spent it's entire life. In fact you can say it's been there since birth. Growing up there was awesome. All through it's life it had the best of everything. It was surrounded by family and friends.

It had been through a lot too. The storms that shook it's branches, the lightening that struck down a nearby tree, and the small insects that ripped apart so many other leaves, were devastating. But it survived.

Then one day it started to go through some changes. Changes that life brings. It began to feel old and withered. It's beautiful color started to turn and it began to lose it's grip. Then one day it fell earthward. It had given up all hope of holding onto the life blood that kept it fed, strong and healthy.

But on the way to the fall, a simple invisible thread caught it. As if to say not yet, my friend. Not yet.

Now there it is. I believe that leaf is having a second birth. Yes, in spite of the fact that it appears old and dried up. In spite of the fact the source of all of it's joy and happiness just let it go without explanation. A net, an invisible thread of hope captured it on the way down.

I believe that leaf has a change in attitude. I believe that leaf is grateful. I believe that leaf believes in second chances. I believe that right where it is, it is thinking, "It isn't over yet. Look at all of the others laying down there. They gave up. I may not be way up where I started but the view from here isn't bad at all."

There was silence on the phone. He never said a word for a few minutes. Finally I said, "Do you understand what this leaf is telling us?"

"Yes, I do."

"Bill, this leaf is hanging on by a thread. For some reason it wasn't going to hit the ground today. That thread that you spoke of. Where did it come from? Who put it there? What's it made of?" I asked.

"Faith. Will. God," he said quietly.

"So let's acknowledge that you have fallen a bit lower than you were before. So what are you going to do about it?"

"Enjoy the view?"

"No, only leaves can do that. You are a man of faith, will and God. That leaf is still going to fall. But it can't do anything about it. You can. It has no choice in what it is, what can do, or what will happen to it. You do. You can choose to do or be anything you want to," I told him.

"So what should I do now?" he asked.

"Hang up the phone and come over here," I said.

About fifteen minutes later he arrived. I was standing in my driveway with two rakes. We spent the next hour and a half gathering all the leaves in bags. We hardly spoke at all. We hardly put a dent in the mess.

"There my friend, that's what you need to do. Clean up your life," I said.

"But we're not finished. There's more," he said.

Pointing up into the tree I said, "There will always be more. Life is just that way. Look, that leaf is still hanging there," I said.

Then Bill walked into my house and a few minutes later came walking out with a piece of thread and a small step ladder. Standing on the very top step he reached up and grabbed the suspended leaf. I watched in amazement as he tied one end of the thread to the leaf and the other to the branch.

"There. Now it will be more secure. It's not where it used to be. But it's hanging in by a thread and a little help from a friend," he said.

Then he walked over and shook my hand and said. "Thanks, my friend for the thread."

I just said, "Hang in there!"

"I Believe in you!"
Bob Perks © 2001

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