Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXXI

It was a day that changed my life. Wait...let me rephrase that....it was a moment that changed my life. I don't remember exactly where I was when that moment happened, but I do remember that it was early September,1986, and I was driving my car, a white 1984 Buick Century. Just a couple weeks before, I had experienced for the first time that horrible feeling that almost every human alive has either already faced or will have to face...the death of a parent. In this instance, I had lost my dad, and as I drove down the highway that day trying so hard to erase the most recent memories of him as he lay in bed during those final days of life, I was hoping that my recollections of him would be of the happy times we had shared so many times, when he was in good health. Then the thought occurred to me that I was what I was, I believed the way I did, because that's what he believed. That's when that moment came, and it was nothing more than a thought, but it hit me like a bolt of lightning: "That's not good enough!" I could not survive on my own, living off of my dad's experiences or set of values. I had to have my own personal convictions, my own foundation to stand on, and it had to be solid and stable enough to sustain me during the hard times. His influence has always been, and always will be, a powerful force in my life, but I knew the days of being able to fall back on Daddy's standards were over. Beginning that day, I started studying, digging, thinking, praying, and developing my own belief system...something I could stand on.

It would be inaccurate to say that when that moment came, and my attitude made that sudden shift, that I discarded everything my dad had taught me. In fact, the exact opposite is true: I took the tools and materials he had provided for me, and used them to build my foundation. If someone would ask me to describe in one word what was the most important tool he had left me, I would have to say it is "stability." That's a trait that I want to always hold on to with a death grip, even as I pass it on down to my offspring, so that when the storms are raging and the waves come crashing in, we don't falter or waiver....we just hold steady and stay the course. That doesn't mean that if I ever discover I've made a wrong turn that I'm too stubborn to make a necessary correction. What it means is that I set my eyes on the goal, and let nothing distract me from that focus.

I guess what's got my mind going this direction is the fact that I have recently come in contact with some people who can best be compared to water in a pan. You tilt the pan one way, and they go rushing to one side. Then you shift the pan the other direction, and there they go again. They're here today and gone tomorrow. They're undependable, unpredictable, and the only thing consistent about them is that they're inconsistent. Probably the best way to describe them is that they're a perfect example of what I do not want to become. And the most troubling fact of all is they don't even realize they're that way....if fact, I feel certain that they would argue that they're the exact opposite. Can you think of someone who fits that description?

Just this past week I read a statement that really grabbed my attention: "People who are not strong in their beliefs will most likely adopt the viewpoint of the bully." I want to be the type person who can tell you what I believe and why I believe it, whether the topic be on religion, politics, morality, ethics, or life in general. And if you're going to convince me otherwise, you'd better come armed with some solid facts that you can prove beyond a doubt, or you're just wasting your time. Because, you see, I'm armed with a trait that gives me the courage to set my sails on a bold, steady course, and I don't aim to change. That trait is called "stability." And it all goes back to that day in 1986 when I realized that I had to have my own set of values and beliefs, and I went immediately to work developing them. Here's the neat part: Even though this task of constructing my own solid foundation is a perpetual process, when I take the time to stand back and take a look at it, it looks almost just like my dad's.

Preston