One Thing
In the 1991 movie City Slickers, three mid-life crisis guys in their thirties head west to participate in a two-week cattle drive. Their goal: reset their broken lives and accomplish something worthwhile for once.
A giant, ancient cowboy named Curly (Jack Parlance) intimidates the city boys with his throwing knife and infallible lasso. With a face as weather-beaten as the rocky plains themselves, he clarifies the pecking order with protagonist Mitch Robbins (Billy Crystal), saying, “I crap bigger n’ you.”
Eventually, while riding side-by-side on horseback, Curly asks Mitch, “Do you know what the secret of life is?”
“No. What.”
“This.” Curly smiles and extends an index finger. “One thing. Just one thing.”
“What’s the one thing?”
“That’s what you’ve got to figure out.”
We all suffer and die. Is there one secret to this painful life? If so, it must remain true, even as we break and die.
Every morning I awaken in pain. I crawl out of bed, silence my alarm, stagger into the bathroom, take my medication, then lie down for another thirty minutes. I hurt.
With the second alarm, I arise. Time’s up. I open my tattered Bible, the same one my parents gave me at age twelve before I was baptized. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.” (Proverbs 3: 5-6)
Some days, I have no sense of communion with God. I can hardly think. My sorrows overwhelm me, and my prayers seem to go nowhere. I am a wooden stick, with all the bark torn away, bobbing on a wave in an endless sea.
But other times, when I quiet my mind and breathe the Wind of the Living Designer, I perceive my station in the universe, and I observe more clearly the wonders about me. Suddenly, everything fills me with amazement. The birds after the rainstorm. My grandchildren extending their fingers one by one and exclaiming, “Granddaddy! We get to see each other every day for four days. No—five days!” My wife’s hand upon my neck. The hot, black coffee in the mug against my lips. And I am filled with wonder. What intricate design surrounds me!
My bride of thirty-four years often asks me a salient question as we walk our evening loop through the neighborhood. “What did you learn today?” After twelve hours in the office, I’m tempted to complain. When I act dumbfounded, she rephrases the question. “Tell me something amazing about your day.”
Still difficult. How do I reply? Have I searched for knowledge, as if for silver, or wonder, as if for gold? Do I have eyes to recognize wonders?
On my worst mornings, I roll out of bed in agony, immersed in a never-ending nightmare. But then, if I can, I take one step. My mind usually clears. The pain decreases as I move and change my focus.
Gazing through my window, I sense my place in the Creator’s grand 3-D movie, and I believe there’s purpose beyond everything I can see and imagine. It seems then that the secret of my life cannot be based on what I accomplish, for my strength will pass away. All my forward momentum will cease.
What will remain when my legs can no longer support my weight? Will I receive Peace from the Designer of Mysteries even as my body fails? Will the Wind of Wonder carry me across the finish line of life? I hope so.
The secret of life is One Thing. Curly said so.
Mitch didn’t understand at first. “What’s the one thing?” he asked.
“That’s what you’ve got to find out.”
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