My wife loves this story. So I decided I would retell it today even though I have already written about it in a previous article.
About 4 years ago I invited my best Kenyan friend to come visit me in Tanzania for a week. He preached Sunday morning at the church I was pastoring at the time and then we made arrangements to visit the island of Zanzibar. We boarded a little airplane Monday morning for the short 15 minute flight.
Our plan was to drop our things off at the guest house, catch a local dhow to outlying smaller islands, and go snorkeling. Things went pretty much flawlessly for the first part of the day. Flight, on time. Hotel rooms, ready. Boat, smooth sailing. Snorkel gear, present and accounted for. When we neared one of the best spots to see the fabulous Tanzanian aquatic life, he became a little apprehensive.
"So I just jump in the water?" he asked.
"Yup!" I replied enthusiastically.
"And I use the tube and mask?" he continued.
"Oh yeah!" I replied hardly able to contain my excitement.
"And then what?" he inquired.
"You swim! And look at all the incredible fish." I announced.
"And then what?"
"Relax! You're going to be fine." I replied soothingly.
As the anchor went sailing overboard to steady our position I jumped into the water. SPLASH! It was amazing. And the water temperature perfect.
"Come on!" I shouted. "It's perfect."
He took the plunge. I swam over to him for a brief moment to make sure he was okay and then started off exploring the various parts of the underwater reefs and rocks. After a few minutes I had the feeling that I was all alone. Pulling my head up out of water I couldn't see my friend anywhere. I started to panic. Where was he?
I hollered towards the boat captain. "Where is Samuel?"
Almost simultaneously, I could hear someone hollering as if they were in great pain. I swam back towards the boat as fast as I could. Sam sat on the deck of the boat yelling and carrying on something fierce.
"What's wrong?" I yelled as I tried to get out of the water.
"They bit me! They bit me!" bellowed the rather large Kenyan.
"What bit you?" I countered, totally unsure of what was taking place.
"The plastic bags! They bit me! You didn't tell me that the plastic bags can bite!"
"Plastic bags?" "What are you talking about?" Now I was really worried convinced that my friend was hallucinating.
As I approached him I could see that his entire torso had swollen with painful welts. "Oh my goodness ! What did you do?"
He looked at me in disbelief. "Didn't you hear me? The plastic bags! They bit me. The ocean is polluted"
Then it dawned on me: by plastic bags he meant jelly fish. And by bit me he meant they had stung him. And a huge one had torched his abdomen. We had to make an emergency trip back to StoneTown on a rickety dhow with an antiquated outdoor motor. Fortunately, Sam is strong and had almost fully recovered by the time we reached the shore a good 30 minutes later. And the swelling went down the next day.
Life is full of seemingly innocuous plastic bags that turn out to be toxic jelly fish. Things that look innocent and sweet. Things that we have to have or have to do because everyone else has them and does them. I often pray that the Lord gives me discernment to be able to properly see and discern. Many of these things turn out to be deadly, toxic, and damaging to our hearts, souls, and emotions. The world around is a very polluted place. May we walk in wisdom.
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