Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLI

This guy sitting next to me is a very important person in my life. In fact, at this point in time, his value to me is beyond measure. Without him, I've got problems. "Who is he?" you may ask. Uh, I don't know his name. In fact, I have no idea where he lives, whether he's married, divorced or single, or if he has kids. There hasn't been a word passed between us, and chances are there won't be. What I do know is there are some areas where I'm extremely weak, and there are some things that I need someone else to do for me. I'm in desperate need of one of those things right now, and it's something this man can do. You see, I'm at an airport and it's time to go home, but I can't fly a plane. Thankfully, this guy is a pilot who is trained to fly the aircraft I'm about to board, and that's what he is gonna do. Without him, or someone just like him, I'd have to set out walking, and it's a long walk from Irving, TX. I'm typing these words onto an iPad, and it's working perfectly. All I have to do is touch the letters on the screen, and they magically appear for you or anyone else to read. If it was left up to me to build a device that would work like this, it wouldn't get done. This may surprise you, but I don't know how to build an iPad. Furthermore, practically every person who reads this will be doing so via the Internet, which I also don't know how to construct. (Thank God for Al Gore.) I had soup for lunch, and as usual, I had crackers with my soup. Trouble is, I don't know how to make crackers. I have to depend on people who do. I can't read without my glasses, so I'm thankful for those who know how to make prescription eyeglasses. I could go on and on with countless examples, but five is enough and you're starting to get the picture. It would be a tough life if we had to live our lives in a bubble, with no help from other human beings. Yes, I believe every able-bodied person should be responsible for providing for himself, but that includes knowing how to depend on the expertise of others, as we provide our own skills in return. My wife works for a heart surgeon. I've never known anyone who performed his own bypass operation. Hey, I have an idea! In the areas where I'm weak and you are strong, if you'll help me, I'll return the favor. If you don't have any weaknesses where I'm strong, let me do something for you anyway. It'll make me feel better. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCL

I'm not a fan of shopping, so if you're trying to find me, the mall might not be the most logical place to look. However, I admit, I probably average going there with my wife at least a couple times a year, and when I do, I like sitting on one of the benches in the hallway. As long as I don't have to stay there all day, I can actually enjoy sitting there, because I'm a people watcher. I really feel that after years of experience, I've gotten pretty good at reading people. I like to look at their facial expressions to see if I can determine their frame of mind and whether or not they're happy. When I use the term "happy," I'm not referring to their situation at that particular instant, which means that smiles on their faces won't necessarily answer my question. What I'm really wondering is are they living a happy life. Happy people can sometimes be angry. Happy people can sometimes be sad. By the same token, people who are generally unhappy can have moments of temporary elation. So what does it take to make someone genuinely happy? When we first start compiling that list, the things that we may typically want to include may not should be on the list at all. I'm referring to things like, "He's financially set," or "She usually ends up getting her way." In my few short decades of people watching, I've concluded that happy people are not "me-focused" people. Those who are constantly in a flux to get ahead of the next guy are not the ones who are living a happy life, although they will feel moments of satisfaction with each person they surpass along the way; then that moment is gone and they're back in a dither to move ahead of someone else. In essence, I believe the happiest people on earth are the ones who are genuinely at peace with themselves. I've known people who can make friends fairly easily, but when it comes to hanging on to those friends, that's an entirely different story, and that's because they start to use those newfound friends to achieve their own selfish wishes and whims. The next thing that happens is the friends begin to pull away, leaving them, once again, lonely and alone. On the other hand, the happiest people I know are the ones who are constantly looking to see what they can do for those around them with little consideration for their own convenience. I've come to the conclusion that the recipe for true happiness is to simply place the convenience and happiness of others ahead of your own. (Isn't it funny how when we actively work toward someone else's benefit, we end up benefitting ourselves?) Being able to spot those people while sitting on a bench in the mall is not always easy, but I think I'm starting to get the hang of it, although it would be difficult to explain. I guess the best way to explain it is there seems to be a look of peace in their eyes. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXLIX

Considering the fact that I am now on the downhill side of sixty, it's natural to assume that I would be a fan of the oldies station. While it's true that I enjoy listening to the music that I grew up on, I have to tell you that many of the newer styles of music also appeal to me, and that includes both secular and Christian music. As a matter of fact, I sometimes look back at some of the styles of clothing, hair, and even the music that we thought was so cool and I have to ask, "Really?" Many of the fashions of yesterday now seem laughable, while I really have to question the messages in the songs we once enjoyed so much. And once again I'm speaking about both secular and Christian music. Many of the secular songs of my teenage years actually promoted drug use, and the Christian songs.....well, let's take a look at one in particular. In my view, it promotes church stagnation. First of all, let me tell you that I never actually liked this song, but it is typical of many of the songs of its day. And one little side note, also like so many songs of that era, it started with the word "well." Here are some of the lyrics: Well, they tore the old country church down, Built a big new church way up town, With a steeple so high It reaches to the sky, And pride has slipped in, Where love should have been. Even when that was a popular song and I was just a kid, I questioned its message. Maybe I have its overall purpose all wrong, but to me, it is implying that small country churches are good and big city churches are bad. Now, in no way, shape or form am I insinuating that small country churches are not good, but let's take a practical look at what this song is saying and see if it is in agreement with the biblical message that is sometimes called "The Great Commission." If I attend a small church, is it right for me to want it to stay small? Is there ever a point where we say that we now have enough people? If that is the case, should we put up a "No Vacancy" or a "You Are Not Welcome" sign? Maybe we could make a waiting list, and when a church member dies or moves away, we could allow in the person at the top of the list. Earlier this morning, I was sitting on a plane talking to the man across the aisle, and he was telling me how much he loves his little church and how he just doesn't think he could handle a big church. However, I also believe if I wanted to move my family to his church, he would be delighted to have us, even if our presence made it a little bigger. So, where is the stopping point when it comes to welcoming new people? I don't think there is one. I think any person who loves God, loves his church, and also loves people, like Christians are supposed to do, will not only always keep out the welcome mat for new people, but will actively work toward church growth. And that means we're continually working to change our little church into a big one, regardless of how many times we sing that song. Yes, I know it also says something about pride slipping in, but pride has been known to slip in little churches as well. I can recall just a few short years ago when our church was housed in a tiny white building, and everyone there loved their "little" church. But they also loved people, and as a result, that little white building is now just a memory. Today, strangely enough, all those same people love their "big" church. But they also still love people. I think we all know what is gonna happen as a result. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXLVIII

Her name was Lou. That's almost all the personal information I can remember about her. I can't even recall her last name. However, there's one thing about her that continues to stand out in my memory even today. In the early 1980s, I was working as a store manager for a fairly large department store chain, and she was my office manager. That was a long time ago, and there's no way I can remember even half of the people I worked with during those years, but Lou was so conscientious about her work, a spot for her has been reserved in my memory for the rest of my life. As a result of the pride she took in her work, I still regard her as the best office manager I ever had. One of the most important duties of an office manager was to prepare a daily report known as a transmittal. Any errors on a transmittal could have an adverse effect on the profitability of the store, thus affecting my income as well. Each day when Lou finished it, she would place it on my desk for my signature. However, before I would sign the bottom of the page, I would go over it with a fine tooth comb, looking for errors. If there was a mistake, I was determined to find it, and Lou was equally determined that there would be no errors to find. We turned it into a game, and on the occasions when I did find a mistake, it would upset her. During that period of time, I could go to sleep at night with the assurance that we had turned in perfect reports....because we cared. More importantly, SHE cared, although it was not her income that was affected. If she had not cared, her job may have eventually been affected, but she was the type that wanted to do it right anyway. That's because she saw the big picture...that picture that shows how many lives and careers may have been altered by her actions. Not only that, she was concerned about how her performance made her look. I'm appalled when I look at social media and see the atrocious grammar and spelling errors on so many posts, but it makes me feel better when I see where someone has become aware of their mistakes and made an effort to correct them. What disturbs me is when I see obvious errors, and it's apparent that the person who made the mistake really doesn't give a rip. That reminds me of another former employee, although I remember this one for a different reason. She was a temporary employee who was helping us take inventory. We had an item in our store called a "Snug Sack," but when she listed it on the inventory sheet, she just wrote the word "Sag." When I asked her what it was, she looked at me like I was crazy. "It's sack," she said. I replied, "Sack is s-a-c-k." "Well, I spell it s-a-g," she said. I ended the conversation at that point, but about a month later I was in need of a permanent employee, and she applied for the position. I wouldn't have hired her if she had been the only person who wanted the job, and the reason was all because of her attitude. We all make mistakes from time to time, but our attitude about them determines whether we reduce them or not. When Lou first started working for me, I would find errors on practically every transmittal she put on my desk. However, due to her attitude toward them, by the time my company transferred me from that store to one in another city, her mistakes were extremely rare. That's the way she wanted it....and it's the way I wanted it. That made both of us happy. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXLVII

It's interesting to watch. On the second weekend in October, a group of men and women from practically every section of our country converge on Los Angeles for our company's annual sales meeting. Practically every one of us arrive on Thursday, but since our flights are spread throughout the day, it's later on in the evening, at Happy Hour, when we all gather into one spot as a group. At first there are a lot of handshakes and "great to see you's," and then the big group begins to break up into smaller groups, and that's where it starts to get interesting....just to observe the makeup of each of the smaller groups. Each person will eventually end up joining the group with whom he/she feels most comfortable, and upon closer observation, you will notice that each group is made up of people who are basically from the same region of the country. My group will normally include representatives from Texas, Louisiana, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky, and the Carolinas....in other words, a group of southerners. Of course, no one is banned from any of these clubs, but it's just human nature to gravitate toward the people with whom we feel that special camaraderie. It's like a brotherhood. If we were to organize a gathering of men, with no two of them knowing any other person there, and this group was made up of hunters, fishermen, golfers, runners and cyclists, within a matter of minutes, each of these sub-groups would have sniffed each other out and divided up accordingly. It's like we feel a special kinship with other individuals who share our values and interests. As a runner, when I'm out on my early morning runs, I may or may not wave at vehicles as they pass, and when I do, it's usually a "Thank You" wave to the ones who give me a wide berth as come by. But if I see another runner out on the street, you can bet I'll be saying "Good Morning." It's that brotherhood....that common bond. With that said, I can report that I now find myself a part of another group, or club, one that I never in my life dreamed that I would be joining....and that's the group of people who have a loved one with Down Syndrome. That fact occurred to me a couple days ago when I was planning my fall schedule for work. I have one client who has a thirty-one year old son, named Joey, who works with her in the store, and Joey has Down Syndrome. Every time I visit that store, I find myself looking around for Joey, and making sure I go speak to him while I'm there. Just three years ago, before I had a granddaughter with DS, I was not that way at all, but I can honestly say that, although she doesn't know it, that little girl has changed me. She has made a new man out of me. When I see someone, child or adult, with DS, I now feel that special kinship with him/her and his/her family It's like a special brotherhood. Preston