Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXVII

When I recently crossed paths with an old friend that I haven't seen in quite a while, he asked, "So what's been going on in your life?" I gave him a general overview of the direction my life has taken in the past several years, but after he and I had parted, I thought more about the question he had asked me, and I decided to relate to you some things that have been going on...things of which most of you are probably unaware. Angie and I have learned some lessons, and I would like to share some of what we've learned...some things that have given us a new outlook on life.

I often refer to Angie, my wife, as a "private citizen." What I mean by that is when she's facing a problem or a situation in life, she is not the type to share it with the world. In other words, she likes to keep her private life private. I totally understand, because I'm basically the same way. After some discussion with her however, we have decided that we will share some of what's been going on in the Davidson household in the last few months. Hopefully, I will be able to persuade her to give her side of the story in the near future as well, so you can also hear it from her perspective.

A couple months ago she and I volunteered to head up and coordinate a cookout for our LifeFocus class to be held at Kiroli Park. We did it, and I believe everyone who attended had a great time, but that particular weekend was especially stressful for us for more reasons than just having a cookout. I'll explain later why I feel that class outing plays a part in this story. At about the same time that we volunteered to take on that particular project, Angie was having some medical issues that just didn't seem to be getting any better, so she was going through a series of tests to try to find out what was causing her discomfort. When it turned out not to be what we thought it was, an x-ray was ordered, mainly to check her gall bladder. When our doctor checked the results, he called her and said, "Your gall bladder looks good, but I can see something in there that needs to be checked out. There's a spot on your pancreas." Well, that wasn't good news, to say the least. He ordered a CT scan so he could get a better look, and when those results came back, sure enough, there it was. He then referred us to a doctor in Shreveport, a specialist who could go in, take a look, and let us know for sure what was going on. When we went to see him for our initial visit before the actual procedure, he told us that, based on what he had seen, we should go ahead and plan on surgery. He then said, "Whatever I find in there will be sent off for a biopsy, but I do this all the time, and I'll know right away if it's cancer...and I'll tell you what I see." Then when the name "M.D. Anderson Hospital" in Houston was mentioned, it sent chills up our spines.

The procedure was scheduled for early Monday morning, less than a week after that initial visit, and it was also the morning after our class outing. I really believe that having the responsibility of overseeing the cookout was helpful for us that weekend, because it kept our minds occupied. Through all of this, the only person other than immediate family who knew the whole story was Angie's boss, who is a surgeon. Without mentioning her specific needs, Angie went down front for prayer a couple times at church, and I believe her faith was strong due to some events earlier in her life that had worked to increase her faith. I should also add that there is a scripture that I kept quoting to myself that gave me strength. It is Matthew 6:27: "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" Most of you will remember less than a month ago, Jansen Martinez wrote for me telling her story of how she lost her twin babies, and has since been restored another set of twins, a boy and a girl, the same that she had lost. (The odds of that happening are 3 in 10,000.) Jansen had relayed her story to us the day before Angie's procedure, and it was while I was sitting alone in the waiting room, during the time they were working on her, that I contacted Jansen asking her to share her experiences. I know her story helped a lot of people, but it was perfectly timed for us as a gigantic faith builder.

I must admit that I was really stressed that morning as I sat there in that hospital, but when they called my name and told me the doctor wanted to visit with me, I felt a peace and a calmness that I had not felt in weeks. He went straight to the point: "Well, there's no mass. I checked every square inch of her pancreas, and there's nothing there. It looks good." I could tell by the doctor's demeanor that he was really enjoying giving us that information. All we could say was, "Thank you God!!"

While our report turned out good, we were fully aware that there are just as many people whose news is the opposite. I'm not sure how I would've reacted if what we heard had been different. What would our drive home been like that day? What would we have said to each other? More than likely some of you know from experience what it's like to hear a bad report. I know from exerience that on that one and a half hour drive back home, the things that we had complained and worried about in the past weren't so important any more. We're not sure what that spot on the x-ray was all about...in fact, we may never know. What we do know is that Angie's pancreas looks good, and she is feeling better day by day. For that we are grateful! May the rest of our days be filled with thanksgiving.

Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXVI

I just found out some things about myself that make me somewhat less than proud. Now before I start explaining what I'm talking about, let me clarify one point: I think it's a good thing for a person to recognize a few of his own faults that need to be corrected, but there's a big difference between someone admitting that he needs to make some improvements, and someone beating up on himself and putting himself down. What I'm doing is the former; in no way am I low-rating myself...in fact, I've been amazed at how many people have told me that they have made the same discovery about themselves.

Now for a little background that will help describe the circumstances that led me to perform this self-examination: I am a member of a four-person rotation who teaches an adult Sunday School class known as LifeFocus, and this past Sunday was my turn. I began my lesson preparation a little over a week prior to time for me to teach, and as I was contemplating some of the different points that I felt needed to be made, I decided to present myself with a little challenge (It turned out to be a pretty big challenge.): I would see if I could go a whole week without making any negative comments about anyone else. That was on a Saturday, a week and a day before "my Sunday." Then I came up with an even better idea, so the next morning when I got to class, I asked my friend, Rusty Puckett, who was teaching that morning, if I could have sixty seconds at the end of the class to present the same challenge to the entire class, and we would discuss it the following week. I explained to them that I had decided to go on a week-long fast, but it was a type of fast where I could eat anything I want at any time. I called it a "Negativity Fast" and I invited "whosoeverwill" to join me. I was thrilled when the majority of the class agreed to do so.

Ladies and Gentlemen, that was a long week! I completely lost count of how many times I had to check myself as I was about to make some type of negative comment about another individual. If there was any consolation to be found in this saga, it was the comments I was hearing from my friends in the class who were experiencing the same types of challenges that I was facing. "It would be easier to go on a food fast," and "This is one of the toughest weeks I've ever lived through" are just a couple of the many statements I was hearing over and over from my classmates. However, when Sunday came and the "fast" was over, there was one comment that I kept hearing time and again: "I didn't realize just how negative I've become." I made the same declaration myself.

Well, that seemingly endless week is now behind us, and we're all free to go back to our old ways if that's what we desire, but like I said in the first sentence, I'm not proud of the person that I now know I had become. I know what it's like to try to carry on a conversation with someone who is a constant complainer, and I don't want to be that person. Do you know what type person is the exact opposite of a complainer? It's someone who's thankful. That's who I want to be. Now I'm wise enough to know that changing old habits is a daunting task and requires a determination made of steel, but I believe I'm up to the challenge. Whether I succeed or fail is my choice, and my decision is made.

Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXV

How many times has this scenario played out at your house? You're relaxing on your couch or in your recliner, and the doorbell rings. You go to the door and find a friend or a neighbor there needing to ask you about something, borrow something, or maybe return something that he had previously borrowed from you. You then say, "Hey, how are you?! Come on in." So far everything is cool and everybody's on the up and up...until you speak again. "Please excuse this messy house. Everything's been so crazy around here lately that we just haven't had time to keep it up the way we like to do." Now if you were to be totally one hundred per cent truthful, you would've had to say it like this, "Please excuse this messy house. We've been pretty busy around here lately, but that's really no excuse, because this is the way our house looks most of the time. In fact, when you rang the doorbell, I wasn't straightening anything; I was kicked back in my recliner, taking it easy."

So...what just happened? Here's my opinion: We just made a subtle attempt to deceive our guests. (I'm using the term "we" because I think we're all guilty of doing the same thing from time to time.) We want them to think that as a general rule, our house is immaculate, although if we knew the truth of the matter, the guests are glad to see the house as it is, because it makes them feel better about their own house, which probably looks just like ours. I think we just revealed one aspect of our own human nature, which brings me to my primary topic for today.

If I'm completely honest, I'll have to admit that the Preston that everyone around me sees is not always the "me" that I see when I look in the mirror. It's almost like I have two identities...the one that's genuine, and the one I present to the public. I've heard it said that the primary difference between reputation and character is this: My reputation is what other people think of me, and my character what I really am. That leads me to ask the questions, "How big a gap is there between my character and my reputation?," and "Is it always a bad thing to present myself in a manner that is not real?"

One of the things I love about small children is they haven't yet learned that art of deception, so if they act like they're happy to see me, they really are. By the same token, if they are not happy to see me, they'll let me know, and that's when the parents start teaching them to "be nice" and act happy, even if they're not. Of course, if I have a bad case of the mulligrubs, it's best that I don't display those feelings to the world. Yet with all of that said, it's most likely that most of us should probably work to bring our reputations and our characters closer together, but how do we do it? Which of the two do we need to change? I've given it some thought and here's my conclusion: Both.

Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXIV

She impressed me when I first met her back in the early nineties, although she was just a little girl at the time. Jansen Leach was so sweet, so beautiful, so intelligent, and so talented. Today she is a grown woman, and I love her even more because I can now place the words "even more" in front of each of the adjectives that I just used to describe her. I asked her to be my guest writer this week because she and her husband, Mike, have an awesome story to tell, and she has so graciously granted my request.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I now introduce to you my dear and long-time friend, Jansen Martinez.

Preston


On February 10, 2010, my husband and I experienced the best and yet suffered the worst day of our lives. The best because we met our firstborn children...the worst because we had this first meeting much too soon. After a week and a half in the hospital, just short of 23 weeks of pregnancy, my body could not fight the preterm labor any longer. At 2:57 p.m., our baby boy was born, and at 2:58 p.m., our baby girl quickly followed. His features, even his hairline, were mostly like those of his father, except for his toes which were undeniably like mine. She, on the other hand, was more like me, with the same round face I had as a baby. All in all, they were perfect...their eyes, noses, mouths and gums, ears, ten fingers, ten toes...even features like their eyebrows and fingernails...all were perfect. The hours we held them seemed like minutes, and the minutes they lived seemed like seconds, but oh what precious hours, minutes, and seconds they were!

In March, Mike and I decided to return to church. We had tried once before, but the experience was simply too much...the sea of people, the awkward glances, the joyful upbeat music. Emotionally neither of us was ready to face any of these things again quite yet, but Jerry Holland, a favorite evangelist/prophet of mine was ministering this particular week. I thought, "Maybe...just maybe...he will have a word from God for us," and I pled to God that this would be true. Sure enough, every word of the sermon seemed to speak directly to Mike and me. When the congregation was invited to pray at the end of the service, I headed to the front of the church, and shortly after, Mike came to my side. As we stood there, feeling desperate and broken, the evangelist made his way to us and, without knowing anything that had transpired over the past month or so, began to prophesy over us. Among other things, he said that whatever my husband and I were going through was not meant to destroy us but was simply a test of faith...God had already ordered things...things that had not yet come to pass but that God had already ordered. The minister reiterated this prophecy over us at the end of another service that same week.

In April, a fellow church member shared a vision with me that God had given him one Sunday morning at the conclusion of service as we all stood at the front of the church. In the vision, I was kneeling down while a little boy was tightly hugging me. Then a second child almost knocked me over as he/she ran into my arms from the opposite side. None of us knew exactly what this vision may mean, but I definitely took it as something from God and stored it in my memory.

With all of these words that had been spoken over and given to Mike and me, I decided to read the book of Job, a man who experienced his own test of faith. I knew that Job lost everything...his money, health, family...everything. In the end, however, Job proved himself faithful, and God restored unto Job all that he had lost. Let me emphasize that in no way do I liken myself to Job or my faith to that of this man. Many days I struggled to have any faith at all...feeling angry, confused, betrayed, failed. Through His grace and mercy, however, God began to strengthen my faith and trust in Him again. My prayer became this: "God, first have Your will in my life and that of my husband. I do not want to pray anything into our lives that is outside of Your will. But if it be Your will, please restore my husband and me as you restored Job." I believed that all Mike and I had experienced was the beginning of a story...a testimony. I refused to believe that the passing of our children was the end.

In March of this year, Rev. Holland, the same evangelist that had prophesied over us just one year ago returned. Again, I prayed that God would give him a word of encouragement and reassurance for Mike and me...and indeed, He did. The evangelist said, "God is giving you a story for His glory. You will be amazed at how wonderful everything will be when it was once so bad." What the evangelist did not know, however, was that in February Mike and I had found out that we are expecting again!

When I read Job last year, I noticed a detail about Job's ordeal that I had never realized in past reading or teaching. When Job lost his children, he lost three daughters and seven sons. In the end, when God restored everything unto Job, He restored unto him exactly that which he had lost...three daughters and seven sons. Remember my prayer..."God, please restore my husband and me as You restored Job." So just as we lost one daughter and one son last year, God has restored unto us one daughter and one son...due this fall! God has heard my prayer and performed nothing short of a miracle! All glory, honor, and praise be to Him!!!

Jansen

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXIII

I really didn't talk to her all that much, but I knew what she was up to. Well, I knew about some of what she was up to, although I'm sure there were some things going on behind closed doors that I may never know about. But I knew enough to know that she was headed for big trouble if she didn't make an about face on the road she was traveling, and I found out that I was not the only one who had the same concerns. In fact there were some who tried their hardest to talk to her to try to persuade her to open her eyes and see the pitfalls that were lying just ahead, all to no avail. And, just as we had predicted, the day of reckoning came, and when it did, it came with a vengeance.

I had been watching from a distance while she was living it up like there was no tomorrow, and through it all, I kept my distance. After all, who was I that I should interfere? It's not like she was my own flesh and blood, and I do often take pride in being a person who only tends to my own business. I could easily have rationalized and tried to justify my inaction by saying that she wouldn't have listened to me anyway, which, I'm sure, is the truth. Yet, there's no denying the fact that I didn't even try. Her parents were my friends, and I could only imagine how much they were hurting as they watched helplessly while their daughter, whom they would have been willing to give their lives for, was throwing her own life to the dogs. In my conversations with them, "she" was a topic that we, sometimes awkwardly, avoided.

Like I said before, when payday came, it came with unbelievable force. And, true to my nature, I observed it all from afar, just like everyone else. Well, not everyone else. Besides her family, there were just a couple people, the same ones who had so diligently tried to steer her back onto the right path before, who jumped up and did whatever they could to help, although it didn't seem like there was much that could be done at that point. The rest of us just sat back and said, "We knew something like this was gonna happen. She brought it all on herself."

Sometimes I would think about her while she was serving her time, and I would wonder if maybe she should move to a different part of the country when she regained her freedom, mainly for two reasons: First of all, I felt that she didn't need to stay in the same area with the people who helped to drag her down, and secondly, maybe she needed to go somewhere where no one knew her and what type of life she had been living. But there were two things that I didn't factor in when I was thinking like that: I didn't consider the fact that people in general have a forgiving nature, and I forgot about those two or three people who had never left her side through the worst and lowest days.

Today she is a free woman, and I'm happy to report that from all appearances, she appears to have gotten herself back on the right track, although, contrary to my unspoken recommendations, she's living in the same place she was living before. And, yes, I've talked to her. It was an interesting conversation. One thing she said to me was, "Preston, my life has been a living hell, but there are a couple of people (she called them by name) who have stuck with me through thick and thin, even though some times I would treat them like dirt. Today, now that I'm back on my feet, I would walk through hell for those ladies." I've seen enough in the last few months to believe that she meant what she said.

I'm not going to say who "she" is, even if you guess correctly. I'm just glad to be able to say that it looks like her story may have a happy ending after all, and there are some really good people who are at least partially responsible, although I'm not one of them. Maybe there's nothing I could've done anyway, but how could I know that if I never even tried? Chances are, I'll have another opportunity to help someone else someday. I hope I do better next time.

Preston