Our Pastor used the story of Belshazzer a while back as part of his Sunday morning message. As he was reading it I couldn't help but remember the old saying, “Experience is the best teacher.”

I have had many experiences in my life and have learned a lot of lessons from them. I remember one time, when I was in third grade, an experience that I will never forget. Let me share it with you.

We lived in a little northern California logging town called Rio Dell. David, my brother, and I had just gotten off two weeks restriction for going swimming in the creek without permission. Now, on a spring Sunday afternoon, the taste of freedom was in the air and we wanted to savor it.

We got a group of friends together and packed a lunch to eat. We took off for the woods, with permission to go of course; experience had taught us to get permission.

Behind our house was a creek with woods on both sides. We hiked a ways along the creek and then went up the hill on the opposite side from our house. At the top of the hill we found an apple orchard, there were no apples because it was spring. There was also a nice flat area to play around in. Then on the far side of the orchard we found a sight that was so beautiful. We were on the edge of a bluff that overlooked the Eel River which was probably over a hundred and fifty feet below us. Across the river we could see the town of Scotia. It was very pretty.

Realizing that it was getting close to the time that we were told we needed to be home, we all decided we had better head that way. Experience had taught us we didn’t want to be late. So we crossed the field, went through the apple orchard and started down the hill toward the creek. For some reason we were approaching the creek from a different place than we had been at before. We decided this was going to be a quicker route. We recognized that across the creek and up the hill was the road that ran in front of our house. If we went that way instead of back down the creek the way that we had come we would save time and get home before we were late.

In the lead was a friend of mine named Jay and I was right behind him. We crossed the creek on a fallen tree, because we had learned from experience and didn't want to get wet. When we got to the end of the log, Jay and I jumped off into this dirt, which much to our dismay wasn't dirt. It was a tan mud. We were hurrying so we just kept moving but soon realized that we were having a harder and harder time pulling our feet out of the mud and continuing forward.

The others were far enough behind us that they also realized this was not a good way to go, so they stopped to reconsider how to proceed, but Jay and I were now in serious trouble.

Now experience has taught me that if you are at the bottom of a hill and there is a washed out area that looks sandy, don't go there! What Jay and I found ourselves in was quick sand. Fortunately it was slow quick sand, not the type that just sucks you under, but we were sinking. Soon I was up to my waist and Jay was even deeper. The boys that were with us were too small to help us get out and we were all too young to really know what to do except go for help.

One of the boys skirted around the quick sand area, climbed the hill and ran down the road about a half mile to our house. There he found my dad and told him what was happening. Jay's family lived next door, so my Dad got Jay's dad to help, Jay's dad was the city’s Chief of Police. They brought some shovels and climbed down the hill to us.

By now both Jay and I were pretty scared. Jay was up to his chest in the mud and he had tried to take off his pants thinking that would help him get out. The struggling had only made him sink even more. I was in over my waist but had stopped struggling when I had seen what was happening to Jay.

Our fathers used the shovels to reach out to us. With the shovels they were able to pull us out. My hands were cut from holding the shovel while Dad pulled on it. Those cuts reminded me for a while of the danger I had been in.

There are something’s that are learned only by experience. We did not have anyone with us who had experience with quick sand. There was no one to give us direction that could have saved us from that situation. We just made a wrong choice, although we had the right motive which was to get home on time.

Belshazzer, on the other hand, should have learned from the experience of his father, Nebuchadnezzar. In fact, in the book of Daniel chapter 5, Daniel reminds him of what happened to his father when he became proud. Nebuchadnezzar had become like a beast and lived in the fields eating just like the cattle had for a number of years. Eventually he realized his need to give glory to God and God returned him to his throne. Now Belshazzer was in trouble because he too had become proud and godless. That night he lost his life and the kingdom of Babylon fell.

Experience is a good teacher, forty-two years later I still remember the lesson I learned that Sunday afternoon. However, I would have to say the best teacher is learning from someone else's experiences, and then I don't have to suffer the pain myself.

God Bless!