They're still alive!! Both of them! How can this be? Although I vividly remember each of their deaths, I can now announce that both of my parents are still living....and will continue to do so for years to come. Maybe you're thinking that what I really mean is they've left their earthly bodies behind and are now enjoying eternal bliss in Heaven. I don't have one shred of doubt that that's true; but, no, that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about right here on earth. Before you jump to conclusions, I haven't suddenly lost it and gone off the deep end...well, I'll tell you what I'm talking about.
What I said about them now being in Heaven is true, and although I would love to be able to get one more hug or hear their voices one more time, I'm afraid that's still just as impossible now is was the days after their funerals. Yet, in a manner of speaking, they're still here. Not long ago, we found a jar of pickles that Mom had made. I enjoyed them so much, because it was like I was still eating her cooking. Over the years of his life, Dad had amassed an impressive set of tools, some of which I still use today, and I think of him each time I do. However, Mom's pickles and Dad's tool collection are not what I'm talking about either. As far as money is concerned, there wasn't all that much left for us to fight over. Each of us kids now have something in our homes that belonged to our parents, and they're things that mean the world to us...things we'll cherish for the rest of our lives. But those are all material things, things that will eventually perish. What I'm talking about that is still here is something much more...something that has the potential to last forever, if we preserve it. It's....well... it's them.
What I am, and what my brother and sister are, is a combination of our parents. Their moods, their strengths, their weaknesses, their temperaments, their sense of humor, their beliefs, their work ethic, their manner of speaking, their accents, their physical stature, their value system, and even their methods of dealing with others are all still very much alive in their children. In fact, I can now also say that those same attributes have been passed on down to their grandchildren and great grandchildren. You may say that you never had the opportunity to meet my parents, but if you've met me, then you can get a pretty good idea of what they were like, because what they were is who I am, with their influence surviving for generations to come.
I've heard it said that words are not as important as the attitude with which they are spoken. If that's the case, I may now owe you an apology. Here's why: In my opinion, my parents were the most awesome people I ever knew, and if it's true that they still live through me....well, maybe I'm bragging a little bit. Sorry about that. But it's still true.
Preston
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCXCIII
Dear Politicians,
I have good news and bad news. The good news is I've been hearing what you've been saying, and that means I've been hearing a lot, because lately you've had a lot to say. The bad news is what I'm hearing and what you're saying may not be the same thing. Now it's time for ME to talk and YOU to listen. First of all, let me tell you that I'm just an average citizen...probably about as average as you can find...I'm right in the middle as far as income, intelligence, education, etc. And I vote. I don't base my vote so much on what you say, but I base it more on the message I receive from your words. Let me explain:
You've asked me for my vote time and time again. That's fair. I expect you to do that. But my question is "Why?" Why do you want that office? And you say you want to fight for me. Oh, really? You're doing all of this for me? Well, in case you didn't know it, each one of your opponents said the same thing. So, naturally, that leads me to ask this question: "If every one of the candidates is in this strictly for me, why should I vote for you instead of one of them?" This is where it starts to get interesting. You then tell me that each one of the other guys is a sleaze bag. Well, I hate to pop your bubble, but I just heard from more than one of them that you are too. So then you tell me that you have a plan. Great! Now we're getting somewhere. What is your plan? You're going to announce it later? Well, that stinks! I want to hear it now! "Oh, you'll love it when you hear it," you say. Would I love it if I heard it now? I think I'm starting to smell a rat.
If you want my vote, let me tell you what I'm looking for in a candidate. I want someone who can handle the job, but, equally important, I demand honesty and integrity. In other words, I'm looking for someone with character, and I'm having a hard time finding that. Here's what I AM finding. I see someone who tries to build himself up by tearing other people down....and in my book, that's a total lack of character. I also see someone who, in order to get elected, is willing to spend more than ten times the listed salary for that position over the next four years. That tells me two things: One, there must be some hidden benefits for you that you're not willing to talk about; and two, when you get into office, you would have no problem spending a lot more money than we're taking in. Now about this plan you say you have. You know, the one you refuse to reveal until later. Here's my conclusion: Either you really don't have one or you're afraid it won't hold up to scrutiny. Oh, and there's one more thing....when you tell me that you're doing all of this for me, you are insulting my intelligence.
Yes, I know that I'm just an average guy, and maybe over the years we average people have been too easily deceived, but let me also say that more and more of us are starting to pay attention, and we don't like what we're seeing. If you don't hear us now, you WILL hear us on election day.
Preston
I have good news and bad news. The good news is I've been hearing what you've been saying, and that means I've been hearing a lot, because lately you've had a lot to say. The bad news is what I'm hearing and what you're saying may not be the same thing. Now it's time for ME to talk and YOU to listen. First of all, let me tell you that I'm just an average citizen...probably about as average as you can find...I'm right in the middle as far as income, intelligence, education, etc. And I vote. I don't base my vote so much on what you say, but I base it more on the message I receive from your words. Let me explain:
You've asked me for my vote time and time again. That's fair. I expect you to do that. But my question is "Why?" Why do you want that office? And you say you want to fight for me. Oh, really? You're doing all of this for me? Well, in case you didn't know it, each one of your opponents said the same thing. So, naturally, that leads me to ask this question: "If every one of the candidates is in this strictly for me, why should I vote for you instead of one of them?" This is where it starts to get interesting. You then tell me that each one of the other guys is a sleaze bag. Well, I hate to pop your bubble, but I just heard from more than one of them that you are too. So then you tell me that you have a plan. Great! Now we're getting somewhere. What is your plan? You're going to announce it later? Well, that stinks! I want to hear it now! "Oh, you'll love it when you hear it," you say. Would I love it if I heard it now? I think I'm starting to smell a rat.
If you want my vote, let me tell you what I'm looking for in a candidate. I want someone who can handle the job, but, equally important, I demand honesty and integrity. In other words, I'm looking for someone with character, and I'm having a hard time finding that. Here's what I AM finding. I see someone who tries to build himself up by tearing other people down....and in my book, that's a total lack of character. I also see someone who, in order to get elected, is willing to spend more than ten times the listed salary for that position over the next four years. That tells me two things: One, there must be some hidden benefits for you that you're not willing to talk about; and two, when you get into office, you would have no problem spending a lot more money than we're taking in. Now about this plan you say you have. You know, the one you refuse to reveal until later. Here's my conclusion: Either you really don't have one or you're afraid it won't hold up to scrutiny. Oh, and there's one more thing....when you tell me that you're doing all of this for me, you are insulting my intelligence.
Yes, I know that I'm just an average guy, and maybe over the years we average people have been too easily deceived, but let me also say that more and more of us are starting to pay attention, and we don't like what we're seeing. If you don't hear us now, you WILL hear us on election day.
Preston
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCXCII
It was a dark and stormy night. No, really. It was dark and stormy....and it was night. Our kids were small at the time, and we had just finished tucking them into bed. We decided that we had better check the weather to see if there may something serious headed our way when I heard my little girl call, "Daddy!!" I went into her room to see what she wanted, and she said, "I'm afraid an airplane is gonna crash on our house." I replied, "Darling, do you hear that weather outside? There's no way anyone is going to be flying an airplane in a storm like this." "Okay," she said. I gave her a little pat and told her there was nothing to worry about. Within a matter of a few moments I heard the familiar drone of an aircraft flying overhead. "Daddy!!" What is that sound?" Now what was I supposed to say? "That's a reconnaissance plane. It's a weather plane they send out during storms to make sure everyone is okay," I lied. That satisfied her and she soon fell asleep.
Near Oklahoma City there is a tourist attraction known as Frontier City. The last time we visited it, our son was about four or five years old. One of the attractions they have is an old wild west gunfight. "The kids will enjoy that," we thought. We made sure we were at the right place at the right time, and sure enough, right on schedule, here came some mean looking cowboys headed our way; and when we looked the other direction, we saw some more. Within a matter of a few minutes, shots were being fired and dead cowboys were lying all around us. I looked down at my son and quickly realized he was NOT enjoying the show. He was shaking all over. I tried to explain that those guys were just playing and those guns didn't even have real bullets, but convincing him was not an easy task.
Years passed and the kids grew up. My daughter and her husband were living in an apartment in Chattanooga, Tennessee, and the family decided to spend last Thanksgiving with them. Angie and I stayed in the guest bedroom, while my son and his family got a hotel room downtown. Sometime during the night, a fire broke out in the kitchen at the hotel, and as a precaution, they evacuated the entire building until they were sure they had it all under control and it was safe for all the guests to re-enter their rooms. To the majority of the hotel patrons, the entire episode was simply an annoying inconvenience, but to my four year old grandson, it was much, much more. The following night, he wanted no part of that hotel, so he slept with me at the apartment. Several times before he finally fell asleep, he asked, "Poppa, is this apartment gonna catch on fire?"
Sometimes I think that as adults we forget what it's like to get inside the mind of a child. Things we don't even give a second thought are major events to them. It may be no more than a vehicle making a loud noise that scares them, and when we try to soothe them with our explanation, we inadvertently use words they don't even understand. I can remember a couple of events in my own childhood that absolutely terrified me. As a pre-schooler, I went to school with my uncle one day. I was fine until the last class of the day. The teacher, Mr. Brooks, was crippled and walked with a severe limp. That scared me, and I started crying. I thought he was drunk, and I'd never been around a drunk person before. (In later years, Mr. Brooks became my principal, and I adored him.) The following year, when I was in the first grade, some kids on my school bus were saying that the next night, Russia was going to bomb the United States. At bed time that night, I informed my parents about that situation, but they assured me it was not true and the Lord was watching over us. I went to bed unconvinced, because Mom and Dad had not been on my bus to hear everything that was being said, even by some of the third graders, who definitely knew what they were talking about.
Why am I saying all of this? I guess it's because that's what's on my mind right now. I'm trying to purpose in my mind not to ever forget that all of those countless questions are being asked due to an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and those small impressionable minds view the world from an entirely different perspective. "Training up a child the way he should go" requires wisdom, and if I want to be as successful as I would like, I will have to re-train myself to see the world through the eyes of a child.
Preston
Near Oklahoma City there is a tourist attraction known as Frontier City. The last time we visited it, our son was about four or five years old. One of the attractions they have is an old wild west gunfight. "The kids will enjoy that," we thought. We made sure we were at the right place at the right time, and sure enough, right on schedule, here came some mean looking cowboys headed our way; and when we looked the other direction, we saw some more. Within a matter of a few minutes, shots were being fired and dead cowboys were lying all around us. I looked down at my son and quickly realized he was NOT enjoying the show. He was shaking all over. I tried to explain that those guys were just playing and those guns didn't even have real bullets, but convincing him was not an easy task.
Years passed and the kids grew up. My daughter and her husband were living in an apartment in Chattanooga, Tennessee, and the family decided to spend last Thanksgiving with them. Angie and I stayed in the guest bedroom, while my son and his family got a hotel room downtown. Sometime during the night, a fire broke out in the kitchen at the hotel, and as a precaution, they evacuated the entire building until they were sure they had it all under control and it was safe for all the guests to re-enter their rooms. To the majority of the hotel patrons, the entire episode was simply an annoying inconvenience, but to my four year old grandson, it was much, much more. The following night, he wanted no part of that hotel, so he slept with me at the apartment. Several times before he finally fell asleep, he asked, "Poppa, is this apartment gonna catch on fire?"
Sometimes I think that as adults we forget what it's like to get inside the mind of a child. Things we don't even give a second thought are major events to them. It may be no more than a vehicle making a loud noise that scares them, and when we try to soothe them with our explanation, we inadvertently use words they don't even understand. I can remember a couple of events in my own childhood that absolutely terrified me. As a pre-schooler, I went to school with my uncle one day. I was fine until the last class of the day. The teacher, Mr. Brooks, was crippled and walked with a severe limp. That scared me, and I started crying. I thought he was drunk, and I'd never been around a drunk person before. (In later years, Mr. Brooks became my principal, and I adored him.) The following year, when I was in the first grade, some kids on my school bus were saying that the next night, Russia was going to bomb the United States. At bed time that night, I informed my parents about that situation, but they assured me it was not true and the Lord was watching over us. I went to bed unconvinced, because Mom and Dad had not been on my bus to hear everything that was being said, even by some of the third graders, who definitely knew what they were talking about.
Why am I saying all of this? I guess it's because that's what's on my mind right now. I'm trying to purpose in my mind not to ever forget that all of those countless questions are being asked due to an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and those small impressionable minds view the world from an entirely different perspective. "Training up a child the way he should go" requires wisdom, and if I want to be as successful as I would like, I will have to re-train myself to see the world through the eyes of a child.
Preston
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCXCI
It made news around the world. Three Americans had been hiking in northern Iraq and they inadvertently crossed the border into Iran...a nation that has a long history of hostile actions against anyone or anything American. It created a worldwide sensation when they were arrested, accused of spying, and subsequently jailed. Naturally, there was a huge outcry across our nation as our citizens were screaming over this obvious injustice, yet the first question that came to my mind when I first heard the story was, "What kind of idiot would go hiking along an unmarked border of a country that is considered to be a part of the "Axis of Evil?" I've thought about it a lot since that time, and I still haven't come up with a satisfactory answer. Was it the thrill of the risk involved? They had to have been aware of the danger.
As it turned out, a million dollars had to be paid to the Iranian government for their release. When we stop to think about it, our initial reaction may be to say, "They brought this upon themselves...now let them suffer the consequences." But that's not the way we operate in this country. How many times do we hear stories of hikers who get caught in a blizzard on some mountain in Colorado? If they would've had any sense, they wouldn't have been out there during the time of year when snowstorms can come upon you without any previous warning. Yet thousands of dollars and countless man-hours are spent in their rescue attempt. That's how we do things.
The thought has occurred to me from time to time that when we rush to rescue those people who were somewhere they shouldn't have been in the first place, we're really encouraging their irresponsible behavior, but then I think about it just a little more. How many times have I found myself in an unpleasant situation, in need of someone's help, yet I'm in that predicament strictly because of my own recklessness. Has anyone ever helped you out of a jam that you got yourself into? Yes, I know that when we become "grownups," it's time for us to start taking responsibility for our own actions, but sometimes even reasonable adults make stupid decisions. One of the most common mistakes we make is opening our mouths when we should be remaining silent. Then we end up crying for someone to come to our rescue.
There have been times when I was ashamed to ask for help, simply because I knew it would be obvious to everyone involved that all my troubles were self inflicted. But there have been other times when I was so desperate for help, I was beyond caring what anyone else may think about me. The most stupid thing any of us could ever do is willingly violate the laws of God, especially when we know what the penalty will be, yet there have been periods in my live when I took that risk time and time again. I'm happy to report, though, that God came to my rescue, although the expense to Him was enormous. With that in mind, I guess I really have no excuses to ignore someone's plea for help, regardless of whose fault it is.
Preston
As it turned out, a million dollars had to be paid to the Iranian government for their release. When we stop to think about it, our initial reaction may be to say, "They brought this upon themselves...now let them suffer the consequences." But that's not the way we operate in this country. How many times do we hear stories of hikers who get caught in a blizzard on some mountain in Colorado? If they would've had any sense, they wouldn't have been out there during the time of year when snowstorms can come upon you without any previous warning. Yet thousands of dollars and countless man-hours are spent in their rescue attempt. That's how we do things.
The thought has occurred to me from time to time that when we rush to rescue those people who were somewhere they shouldn't have been in the first place, we're really encouraging their irresponsible behavior, but then I think about it just a little more. How many times have I found myself in an unpleasant situation, in need of someone's help, yet I'm in that predicament strictly because of my own recklessness. Has anyone ever helped you out of a jam that you got yourself into? Yes, I know that when we become "grownups," it's time for us to start taking responsibility for our own actions, but sometimes even reasonable adults make stupid decisions. One of the most common mistakes we make is opening our mouths when we should be remaining silent. Then we end up crying for someone to come to our rescue.
There have been times when I was ashamed to ask for help, simply because I knew it would be obvious to everyone involved that all my troubles were self inflicted. But there have been other times when I was so desperate for help, I was beyond caring what anyone else may think about me. The most stupid thing any of us could ever do is willingly violate the laws of God, especially when we know what the penalty will be, yet there have been periods in my live when I took that risk time and time again. I'm happy to report, though, that God came to my rescue, although the expense to Him was enormous. With that in mind, I guess I really have no excuses to ignore someone's plea for help, regardless of whose fault it is.
Preston
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