Did you read the news story about the guy that escaped from the mental hospital and commandeered an ambulance? True story. This fellow got loose from the boys in white in Florida and found his way to North Carolina. That’s where he hot wired an ambulance and took off on a wild chase through three counties. He eventually ended up in Virginia.
When the police finally caught him and coaxed him out of his beloved vehicle, the malefactor was wearing a stethoscope around his neck, a pager on his waist, and had latex gloves in his back pocket. He’d cut his hair into a Mohawk.
But that’s not the end of this story. When the police opened the back doors on the ambulance they found a dead deer laying on the gurney. The buck had an intravenous tube stuck into it and they said a defibrillator had been used. In classic Southern style the patrolman said, “It was a six point buck.”
I don’t know, maybe its just me, but the thought of a mental patient dressed like a physician, joy-riding in an ambulance with a dead deer on IV’s in the back just strikes me as funny. He probably always wanted to be a paramedic or a doctor and now it was his chance. He got the wheels, he got the stethoscope. All he needed was a patient. Bingo, here’s some fresh road kill. He pulls over, and hauls the buck into the back, pumps it full of fluid and tries to shock it back to life. He might not be a real doctor, but he’s getting to play one.
There’s a little bit of that mental patient in us all. No, not the part about Mohawks, and dead deer. The part about having some dream that was just out of our reach. The idea of wishing that we could become something that we aren’t. I’ve always wanted to be a cover-corner in the NFL. Not going to happen. So, what do I do now? I can go crazy wishing I was what I’m not, or I can accept my God-given design and get on with life. I’ve chosen the latter. I hope you will too.
(Psalms 92:4) For Thou, O LORD, hast made me glad by what Thou hast done, I will sing for joy at the works of Thy hands.