At what age is it okay to stop trying to acquire a taste for things we’ve never liked?
I’m not sure, but I’m giving myself permission.
At this point in my life, I’ve officially given up on ever liking oysters, for example. No matter how you dress up an oyster, it always has been, is, and will be hideous to me.
And having now broached the subject of oysters and being unlikely to ever write another column in which I could express this, I want to ask this question: How on earth could the very first oyster-eater have cracked open that first shell, seen the slimy goop inside and decided, “Yum! I bet this will taste good!”?
It boggles my mind.
But back to my original point, which is that I have finally accepted my lifelong aversion to oysters and certain other foods, beverages and activities.
Heavy metal music, high heels, sushi, roller coasters, horror movies, sewing, coffee without creamer, watching hockey on T.V.—these are just a few of the things I’ve tried and failed to like.
Getting in the ocean has even made that list. Yes, I do love going to the beach, but I enjoy the ocean immensely more when I’m not in it. When I venture into the surf, I find myself miserably, constantly, neurotically distracted by thoughts of what’s in there with me—all those sea creatures anxious to sting, nibble and chomp on me.
In addition, the fun of riding a wave in to shore is seriously dampened by the knowledge that when I reach the shore, I’ll have to hoist myself up off the sand. There is simply no longer a graceful way for me to do that.
I’m too likely to flounder around like a beached whale and end up on YouTube.
“Just make sure she stays wet until we can get her back out to sea,” bystanders might say.
It’s just not worth it.
I certainly have no desire to become a curmudgeonly old stick-in-the-mud. I find, however, that normal, daily living provides more than enough opportunities to grow, stretch and push myself.
Averaging a surgery a year, I find I’m not lacking new experiences or adrenaline rushes. I don’t feel a need to seek out things that propel me beyond the boundaries of my comfort zone. They seem to find me.
Millions of people in this world fighting daily to simply survive would surely find it hard to understand why anyone voluntarily bungee jumps, runs ultra-marathons or auditions to be tortured on “Survivor.”
They must think it’s insane for people to pay money to experience the kind of physical and emotional trauma they’d give anything to avoid.
Call me a sissy, but when it comes to this material, physical world, I’m okay now with not constantly pushing myself to “acquire a taste” for things that are unpleasant.
But only in the material, physical realm.
When it comes to growing and showing my faith, well now, that’s different. In that realm, comfort and safety are irrelevant and I never want to lose my sense of adventure.
I want to learn whatever God wants me to learn, go wherever He wants me to go, do whatever He wants me to do, love whoever He puts in my path, try anything He wants me to try, and give up anything He wants me to give up.
Whatever it takes, whatever it costs, and however it feels, knowing Jesus and living to please Him is worth it. I believe that with all my heart.
If He told me to, I think I’d even eat an oyster.
“I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:14)