Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDVII

When a person has been at the same job for a while, there are some little tricks he learns that saves time and makes the performance of that job a little easier. I'm sure it would only take you a few seconds to think of some examples of what I'm talking about, but have you ever taken the time to question whether that same idea could be used in other areas of your life? I have, and I've been amazed at what I've come up with. There's one in particular I have in mind, and with the new year coming up, I feel like today would be a good time to talk about it. For most of my adult life, my career has been connected to the apparel industry. When I first started, I would watch the "seasoned veterans" at work, and I noticed how, if they were moving merchandise from one rack to another, they could move as many as forty-eight pieces of clothing at one time simply by squeezing them together, lifting them, and carrying them to the other rack. So I tried it. The first few times were a disaster. I could lift them from the rack, but when I started walking with them, the ones in the middle would start to fall and would soon be all over the floor, especially if they were made from fabrics like nylon or rayon. Then one day I figured it out....if I would continually try to squeeze a little harder, I could make it work. It dawned on me that if I didn't keep trying to squeeze harder, even without realizing it, I would begin to relax my grip. It has taken a few failed attempts at other projects in life to figure out that the same principle applies to practically anything I attempt if I want to become successful. Let's take a look at the most popular New Year's resolution, losing weight. So many people will set their goals and even stick with them until the goals are reached, and then they change the plan from losing to maintaining. That's when disaster strikes. They begin to relax a little, and then the entire program falls apart. There is a one word definition that describes the end of maintaining: Fat. That is the result of relaxing. A young man asked me recently, "At what age does a person reach the stage of life where he is no longer tempted to do wrong?" My answer: "I don't know. I'm only sixty-two." I think if he would've asked that same question of my father in law, his answer would've been, "I don't know. I'm only ninety-one." What I really believe he was asking was, "When will I reach the point to where I don't have to try so hard, and I can just maintain?" In that situation, the end result of maintaining is "doing wrong." There is a danger in "maintaining" that we seldom consider before we begin, because the entire premise behind maintaining is the privilege of easing up a little. I can't think of any area of life where that's safe. I remember one day as I was moving a big group of ladies' blouses from one rack to another, I said to myself, "I'm gonna squeeze hard enough to lift these blouses from the rack and make sure I just maintain the same grip without trying to squeeze harder." The result: Blouses all over the floor. I once heard a preacher talking about our walk with God, and he said there is no such thing as maintaining our spiritual life at the same level...we're either getting closer to God or we're drifting away. I've found that to be true in basically any area of life that requires effort. We must continually try to squeeze harder. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDV

Angie and I have worked hard down through the years trying to make a better life for ourselves and those we love. We've had some measures of success, but we've also made our share of mistakes. Although things aren't, and never will be, exactly the way we want them, on the whole, we've done okay and we're living a happy middle class life. What we have wasn't given to us...we earned it. We sleep cool in the summer and warm in the winter; we each drive a nice reliable vehicle; we take nice trips; we eat at nice restaurants; we wear quality, fashionable apparel; and we buy nice gifts for our grandchildren. We firmly believe that what we have worked so hard to attain is ours to use the way we see fit. Let's take it one step further. I am the eldest of four children. My parents could not afford to send me to college, and even if they had been able to save enough down through the years for my education, there's no way they could've done it for four of us, which would've led them to the decision, "Don't give something to one that you can't give to everyone." That means that my education was totally paid by me. Therefore, if there are those who are less fortunate than I am because of the fact that I have a better education....well, I worked and paid for that too. There again, nothing was given to me. I guess what I'm I'm trying to do is state my case that I owe nothing to any part of society that does nothing for me. Technically, and maybe even legally, that may be true. But if I lived by that philosophy, what would it say about me? I'm afraid it would bear out that, even though I may feel compassion, I don't act on it, possibly because I want to make sure that the wants and needs of my family are taken care of first. Maybe I would need to go back a couple weeks and re-read what I wrote about how, as a child of God, created in his image, I live a life that is better than I deserve. I would also need to consider the fact that the way I was raised most definitely had a positive effect on the man I became, which means that I can't take all the credit for any success I've had. If I'm honest with myself, I have to admit that I've had some opportunities that don't befall every individual, but does that obligate me to give a portion of what's mine to those who have less? The answer is, "No, it doesn't." However, if I am to become the kind of man I say I want to be, I have to go beyond obligation. It must be done while bringing as little attention to myself as possible, yet benefitting those who can do absolutely nothing for me in return. If it is to be done right, I must not receive any type of material reward for my action. As we do every Christmas season, our church is offering an "Adopt a Kid" program where people select names of needy children and fulfill their Christmas wish lists of toys and clothing. When I saw all the cards with the children's names and information, it was mind boggling, but it made me feel so much better when people were still wanting to participate long after all the cards had been taken. It made me realize that there is a large number of people who feel the same way I do about helping those in need. I am a firm believer that when we go above and beyond what's comfortable in order to help those in need, we find that, miraculously, what we're able to do for our own families is in no way diminished. It's a principle of giving that can't be proven by science or with a calculator, yet it works over and over again. But it only works when we take the plunge and do it. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDIV

Walking down the hall at school, between classes, I finally had enough, and on the spur of the moment I decided to do something about it. My friend, C.K., had been sneaking up behind me and thumping my ear, and that can be painful...especially in cold weather. I was eleven years old and I handled it the way the typical eleven year old would.....I turned around and hit him as hard as I could with my fist. He looked stunned and said, "Ouch! That hurt." I said, "Well, quit thumping my ear." Although the way I dealt with the situation may have been childish, it worked, and C.K. and I remained friends until we graduated. There's another way of dealing with conflicts that is used by adults that I didn't know about at that time. Instead of hitting C.K., I could've slapped myself. That may sound a little unorthodox, but when you think about it, don't we grownups sometimes use that same tactic? What we do is get mad and hold a grudge against the other person, often refusing for years to forgive. If I had done that when C.K. was thumping my ear, it would've brought me basically the same results as if I had just slapped myself, because the person who refuses to forgive is the one who pays the price. I like the way my cousin, Ron Brigmon, said it, "Unforgiveness is like drinking poison and hoping someone else dies." There is a possibility that somewhere along the way I have unintentionally offended someone and they are carrying a grudge against me even as we speak. Unfortunately for them, however, I don't know about it and I'm happily living my life, completely oblivious to the fact that someone has an issue with me and won't let it go. If I knew about it, I would sincerely apologize, which would then put the ball in their court to forgive. If they refuse, it may or may not upset me, but the burden they have to carry will stay with them until they choose to let it go. The one who refuses to forgive is always the one who pays the greatest price, whether or not the other party suffers. I know of one situation where a man is holding a grudge so strongly against someone else that it is affecting his health. There is no way now that the offending party can undo the damage that was done, and he deeply regrets what happened. The only thing he can do now is apologize, which he has done, but his apology has not been accepted, which means that the situation remains unrectified. The only person who can fix it now is the person who refuses to do so, even at the expense of his own health. Unless he lets it go, his life will soon be over, and at that point, the situation will be resolved. I'm not saying that hitting someone is the best way to solve an issue; in fact I admitted it was childish. What I AM saying is that my problem was resolved long ago and C.K. and I went back to being friends. What grownups should do is work out our differences and get them behind us. That's the way kids deal with conflicts. We adults could learn a few lessons from them. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDIII

How many times have you heard this statement? "When I was a kid, we were dirt poor, but we didn't know it, because all of our friends were just as poor as we were." I'm sure I could say that as well, but as I think about it, I'm starting to pick up a hidden message in that statement that says much more than the statement itself, and it is this: When we evaluate ourselves as to whether we are rich or poor, good or bad, smart or dumb, etc., we base our judgment by how those around us are doing. As an example, a person may have the nicest house in his neighborhood and feel like he's the kingpin, but if he had the same house in a different part of town, it may be the worst house in the area, and may not even match up to the standards of the subdivision. Another example may be that young home-town athlete who excels in every sport at school, but when he makes it to the big leagues, he just can't cut the mustard, and that causes people to look at him as a substandard performer. Is that what life is about? Is my success simply based on how I stack against those around me? Am I doing good as long as there are others who are doing worse than I am? I'm the slowest runner in our group, but in every big race I've run, there have been a lot of people who came in behind me. And by the same token, the fastest runners in our group never come in first in the big marathons. I guess one point I'm trying to make is that the standards by which I judge myself will not be the same standards used by others who judge me. For instance, if you hear a mother say that her Johnny is the most honest inmate in his entire prison, do you automatically think of Johnny as a person of integrity? The best looking horse in the glue factory is still about to become glue, and will never be considered for the Kentucky Derby. The biggest fish in the little pond may become bait when he moves to the ocean. So, here's the question: Is it wise to judge ourselves by those around us? Well....I guess we could say that maybe it's okay, since everyone does it, but when we say that, are we not justifying our actions simply by the actions of others? One thing is certain; when we are judged by God, the actions of others will have no effect on His judgment of us. And another thing....why should I take pleasure in the fact that I'm better than someone else? What if the guy in that ugly house down the street builds a new house that is nicer than mine? Would I then need to tear mine down and build a new one so I can still be one up on him? I can't see that having a happy ending. I remember getting a speeding ticket one time, and I explained to the policeman that I was not the only person speeding. He then explained to me that my citation had nothing to do with how fast other drivers were going, and their speed did not diminish the fact that I was violating the law. If we stop to think about it, there are some laws of human decency that are universal, and they are not altered by what's happening within my local surroundings. To me, the ultimate authority on this topic is the Holy Bible. I like the way it's explained in 2 Corinthians 10:12: (NLT) "Oh, don't worry; we wouldn't dare say that we are as wonderful as these other men who tell you how important they are! But they are only comparing themselves with each other, using themselves as the standard of measurement. How ignorant!" Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDII

Just in case you've ever wondered, I can give you sort of a general idea of what God looks like. All you have to do is just look at me. Now don't get me wrong; I'm not saying you wouldn't be able to tell the two of us apart, but, after all, I WAS created in His image. That tells me there must be at least some sort of likeness....maybe more like a family resemblance. Well, come to think of it, I am His child. Perhaps that's why He's been talking to me so much lately, like any parent would talk to a child. Although I haven't actually heard His voice, His message is coming through loud and clear. Some of what He's said to me has to do with you, but the primary message is that I need an attitude adjustment. You see, here of late I've been getting a little too big for my britches, and it's time for me to be taken down a buttonhole or two. Here's what it's all about: I've seen some of you involved in some things you shouldn't be, and some of you have said some things you didn't need to say, so I started secretly wishing you would get what you deserve and a little calamity would come your way. That's when He started talking, "You know, it's not your place to be the judge of other people." I replied, "But they're doing wrong and getting away with it. It's not fair." His response, "Is that what you want? For Me to be fair?" That's when He started reminding me of some of my mistakes that have gone unpunished, and the list went on and on to the point that I was ashamed to lift my head. He then asked me one more question, "Do you think I've been fair with you?" After that little conversation, it seems like my eyes were opened to some things that I never saw before: The young Dollar Store cashier who didn't even smile at me yesterday just found out that her husband has a girlfriend. The man in that eighteen-wheeler who almost ran me off the road has a wife with a terminal illness, and he's worried what's gonna happen with his kids. My waitress at lunch just received a call telling her she has four days to make a payment on her car or it will be repossessed. I then started trying to recall the excuses I had for my mistakes, and to my dismay, I had none. I just messed up. Period. That made me realize that even on my best days, I don't even come close to deserving the good life I've had. He then spoke one more time, "I just let you see a few people through My eyes. Now maybe you won't be so quick to judge." I think I'm beginning to get a whole new understanding of what he's been telling me. Now when I look at those around me, the judgment is replaced with compassion. But there's something else I see that I've never really noticed before. When I look at you I notice that we sort of look alike. Almost like family. You, me, the cashier at the Dollar Store, the truck driver, the waitress, all of us, and I know why. We were ALL created in His image. He's our Father! We're all His children. That explains why we don't get what we deserve. He loves us too much!! Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDI

It's something we tell people all the time....after all, it's so easy to say. We may actually express it in a variety of ways, but here's the basic message: "It's not how many times you fall; what counts is how many times you get back up." Sometimes I get weary of all those tired old cliches and I question why we even have to say that. Well, as of today, I have gained a whole new perspective and a renewed appreciation for those of us who say those words...even if we say them without giving the subject much thought. (As a reminder, I sometimes write these articles three or four weeks before they're posted, which means that when I speak of "today" or "yesterday," I'm actually speaking of days a few weeks past.) This morning I fell. Literally. I was on my early morning run, and I tripped and fell onto the asphalt. Ladies and Gentlemen, that hurt. I can't really tell you what happened...it's just that one second I was running on a downhill section of the street, and the next second I was face down on the pavement. I'm not sure how much time elapsed while I was lying there, but one thing I CAN say is getting up at that moment was one of the toughest things I've ever done. I must admit that I felt a sense of urgency since it was before daylight and I was in the middle of the oncoming lane of a curvy, hilly road...and the predawn traffic was heavier than normal this morning. But I was injured. My left arm and shoulder didn't want to cooperate. I'm eternally grateful for my friends, Claire Clary and Bob Anderson, who were there for me at that moment. You see, there are three ways to respond when you see a friend fall. Bob and Claire could've just kept running, and maybe they would have even discussed my situation and what a shame it was that I fell. Or they could have pointed out to me that if I had been paying attention to what I was doing, I would still be on my feet. After all, they were running right beside me and they didn't fall, which means that it was all my fault and I got what I deserved. The fact is, if they had said that, it probably would have been true. Instead, they had compassion on me, and were there willing to do whatever I needed to get me back on my feet, because that's what true friends do, regardless of who's to blame. Falls have consequences....usually injuries. And that goes for all kinds of falls, even the ones that are not as literal as the one I had today. When a person falls, there's pain. Getting up is not easy. I know that from experience. That's why we must continue to remind people that "it's not how many times you fall, it's how many times you get up." One other thing I figured out this morning is that although getting up was so extremely difficult, the pain would have been just as great if I had stayed down. I'm so glad I wasn't alone when I fell. Instead, I was surrounded by people who cared, and although I'm sometimes a little stubborn and insist on doing things by myself, having my good friends there for me when I needed them was such a comfort. All of us need to be reminded on a regular basis that we have to get back up, because if it was easy, everybody would be doing it. Preston Sent from my iPad=

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CD

I walked into the lobby of a Dallas, Texas hotel, looking for three men I had never met and whose names I didn't know.  All I knew was that I was supposed to see a guy from Texas, one from Missouri, and another one from Nebraska, and they knew that a man from Louisiana was to meet them there at that designated time.  As I stood there looking around, the elevator door opened, and three gentlemen stepped out.  One of the them, a small man in his mid to late fifties, saw me and approached me with a smile on his face.  "Comment ca va?" he asked.  I replied, "Ca va bien.  Et toi?"  He laughed and said to his companions, "I found him.  Yep, this guy is from Louisiana."  He then offered a handshake and said, "I'm John Stovall."  I said, "It's good to meet you, John.  I'm Preston Davidson."    Although I had no way of knowing it at the time, that was a life changing moment for me.  It was almost eleven years ago, and from that moment to the present, my friendship with John Stovall has steadily grown to the point that I can now say he became one of the best friends I've ever had.  The drive from my home in West Monroe, Louisiana to his home in Dripping Springs, Texas is more than seven hours, so it's not a trip that we've often made, but each of our phone conversations about every two weeks have lasted, on average, about an hour.  In an effort to save a few dollars, when we work a trade show or attend a sales meeting, we have always shared a hotel room.  Usually on the first night of these trips, when we haven't seen each other in a while, our conversations have lasted well into the night, just catching up.  You name the topic, we've probably discussed it.   Yesterday morning I received a phone call from John's son, Brooks, telling me that his dad had passed away during the night.  I felt blind-sided by that information.  I was well aware of John's health issues, but I thought he was getting better, so this hit me like a ton of bricks.  Since that call, my mind has been going over more than a decade of great memories of my good friend.  I have a cactus growing in my front yard that came from his yard, and I'm naming it John in his honor.  When I first bought my GPS unit for my car, with the woman's voice giving directions, I told him that we had to come up with a name for her, and it was he who came up the name Destiny.  During so many of our conversations, the term "lol" became literal for me, because he was an individual who could make me laugh out loud.    John was a man with an intimate relationship with Jesus Christ.  We had some interesting conversations about spiritual matters and about Heaven.  And while I'm on that topic, I should mention one of my good running friends, Amber Zambie.  Many of you are acquainted with Amber and her battle with MS.  Two or three years ago, she was going through a rough spot in her fight, and I mentioned her situation to John.  He told me to text her name to him when we got off the phone so he could add her to his prayer list as well as the prayer board at his church.  Since that time, during many of our conversations, he would ask about Amber.  I could usually report that "she is doing well," and he would say, "Well, I called her name in prayer this morning."  So, Amber, I want to tell you that you haven't lost a prayer warrior...he has just moved up to where he can now call your name to the Lord face to face.    Going to the Dallas Gift Market or the Los Angeles sales meeting is just not going to be the same any more, and I know I'm gonna be lonely without my buddy to talk to in our room and during our meals.  As men, we often feel a little awkward when it comes to telling another man how we feel about him, like maybe it will make us less of a man, or less macho.  It doesn't have to be that way.  It's one of the areas where we could take some lessons from women.  John found out he was sick this past January.  After that, our conversations have changed somewhat, and several times since then, right before we would end our conversation, he would tell me he loved me, which didn't make me feel uncomfortable at all, because I knew what he meant and what kind of man he was.   John, rest in peace, my good friend. I love you and I'm gonna miss you more than you know.  Life won't be the same without you.  Until we meet again......   Preston   P.S.  John was the one person who responded most often to these Friday "Thinking Out Loud" posts, always by email or text.  He would usually begin with the words, "My take."  Removing his number from my phone and his email address from my contact list will be a difficult task.   One more note:  Today's issue marks the 400th consecutive week that I've sent out this weekly "Thinking Out Loud" message.        

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXCIX

There's just something about families that I love. It warms my heart to see mom, dad, and kids laughing and joking with each other, having a good time together. It reminds me of my own family. We're a long way from being perfect, but we love and respect each other, and through good times and bad, we stand together. Therefore, when I see other families who are obviously happy to be all together and appear to be having a great time, it grabs my attention. They may even be experiencing pain, but just having everyone together seems to work as a sedative that gives temporary relief from the hurt. Such was the case that I witnessed this morning as I stood in line to go through security at LAX Airport in Los Angeles. The parents appeared to be in their early forties, and the two daughters were eighteen and thirteen respectively. The mom was gorgeous, with dark skin and jet black hair, while the dad was tall and well built with a fair complexion. The daughters were obviously products of that union; the older one looking more like dad and the younger one was "mom made over." Both daughters were fashionably dressed in comfortable, casual traveling clothes, and I couldn't help but notice the cute little straw hat being worn by the thirteen year old. Judging from appearances, they seemed to have it all together....the perfect family. Security personnel were moving travelers forward in small groups, and I was included in the group with that nice family...just them and me, so that's the reason I was able to hear the conversation between them and the TSA agent. At first he asked each of the girls their ages so he could determine if they would be required to remove their shoes. As he was checking the identification of each parent, the conversation went like this: TSA Agent: So you folks are on your way to Hawaii? Mom: Yes, we're finally getting to go. TSA Agent: I guess Dad gets to pay for this trip, huh? Mom: No, Make A Wish Foundation is picking up the tab on this one. When I heard those words, it was almost like someone had just hit me in the pit of my stomach. This was likely to be someone's last major trip, so I looked them over a little closer and determined that it was the younger daughter. And sometimes I think life is not treating ME fairly! I looked back at that beautiful family and thought, "How can this be? They all seem so happy." After I'd had a moment to recover, I remembered that this is a family, and that's what families do. They had apparently made the decision that this is going to be a fun trip, and if it is going to be the last trip for them as as they are now, it is going to be a good one. For that lovely family, there has to be both pain and a sense of dread that is constantly in the back of their minds, but there's something about family and togetherness that brings them a sense of peace and comfort. I hope neither you nor I ever have to deal with the type situation that this family is facing, but if we do, with the combination of our faith in God and the support from our families, we can weather the storm. Without a miracle, the family I met this morning will soon be experiencing a time of tears and sadness that seems almost too great to bear, but in the brief time I was privileged to spend with them this morning, I concluded that they will face this crisis as a team, and they'll make it through. It won't be easy...in fact, it will be extremely tough, but they are gonna be fine. They have each other. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXCVIII

I think I may need some help understanding something. It's a nugget of wisdom that my parents failed to teach me, probably because they didn't understand it either. It has to do with the hunger for power, which I totally lack. Oh, I'm smart enough to know it exists; in fact I can name some people who possess it. Here are some of my questions: Where does it come from? Is it a quality that is inherited? If someone has it, can they lose it? I've read books and watched news stories enough to realize that once this condition grips an individual, it creates an insatiable thirst that cannot be quenched, and it may lead its victim to go to unprecedented lengths in a vain effort to satisfy his lust. It must be similar, and maybe even related to the hunger for wealth or fame, but what is it about power that becomes so attractive to some people? It's definitely not a new thing. Most of you know the story of King Herod,  who, when he heard of the birth of Jesus, ordered the slaughter of every male child under the age of two in an effort to eliminate what he perceived to be a threat to his position of power.  Every generation before and since that time has produced like-minded individuals...people who will stop at nothing to try to satisfy their cravings.   Here's where I stand:  I have too much to do living my own life to have time to try to control yours. If you want to buy a 32 ounce soft drink, go right ahead....that's your choice. I may not think it's wise,  but what you choose to do with your own life is your business. Yet, as we have seen in New York City, there are those who wish to hold that kind of power over you and me, and the scary thing is the number of people who are willing to turn the control of their lives over to the ones who crave that power. Naturally, power-hungry people gravitate toward positions in government, because that's the easiest place to achieve and maintain their desires.  Therefore, it becomes the responsibility of freedom-loving people to always be cognizant of those who desire to take away our liberties in their perpetual pursuits to satisfy their own selfish lusts.  I may never understand just what it is that so consumes a person that makes him or her desire to make other people's decisions for them, but I do know enough to realize that there are those who want to control what we eat, what we wear, what kind of cars we drive, what doctors we can see, how much money we make, how we worship, or even how many children we can have.  There's a scripture, talking about Satan, that tells us that we must not be ignorant of his devices. We would be wise to adopt that same philosophy in regards to the leaders of our communities, states, and our nation. The less informed we are, the easier it becomes for them to manipulate our lives and get a grip on our day to day activities. It's imperative that we stay on top of what is happening in our world.  Our very freedom depends on it. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXCVII

Those of you who know me well are aware of the fact that I've always been very active in my church.  I have assumed roles such as host, usher, teacher, and youth staff member, but the one area of service that I've consistently been involved in since my youth is music.  I started singing in church as soon as I reached the choir's minimum age requirement, and by the time I was in my late teens, I started occasionally playing piano for special songs. Now, here I am at age sixty-two, and I'm still in the choir, although I have learned that, just like playing sports, singing ability begins to decline as one becomes a senior citizen. I have always considered it an honor to be able serve in that capacity, yet, at least in my case, there have been some hazards along the way. Let me explain: Some people's jobs at church are all behind the scenes, yet those faithful souls continue to give it all they've got even though they get little notice from the congregation for their services.  Being involved in music is different. While it's true that we spend many hours behind the scenes rehearsing, during the church services, we are in the spotlight...literally. Therefore, we receive a lot of recognition. If a person is not careful, that notoriety can go to his head, and as a result, he begins to expect and even seek those accolades for his services.  I know this to be true, because, I must confess, I myself have at times fallen into that trap. I was once asked to sing at a wedding, and the church had one microphone for the singer right beside the only musical instrument, an organ....in the balcony. At first I felt a little frustrated that the wedding guests couldn't even see me, but then my frustration turned to feelings of guilt when I realized what I had wanted to do; I was trying to make at least part of the wedding about me instead of the bride and groom.  But am I not doing the same thing at church when I expect recognition for what little talent I may be exhibiting?   In order to be honest with myself, I must ask myself why I sing in church. A truthful answer would be the same today that it was thirty years ago...."to glorify God."  However, if at the same time I am trying to also draw some attention to myself, am I not asking God to share some of that glory with me?  I wonder if I would put as much into the music if we stood out of sight of the audience, like singers do in a funeral home chapel.  Would I be as eager to give it my all if nobody knew it was me?   I know it would not be feasible for the singers and musicians to be behind a curtain; it's our job to lead the congregation in worship. And yes, I compliment other singers and musicians when they do an exceptional job; as I believe I should.  The compliments I've received have made me feel good, and I've always replied with a polite "Thank you," but nothing I've done makes me any more special than the person who is doing a job behind the scenes. Some people just aren't singers, yet they have talents in other areas where I may be lacking, so that really makes us even...the way it's supposed to be. I promise I'm trying hard to remember that. It could be that, although my talent level has never been more than mediocre, staying humble may be easier today than it was several years ago, because I'm not as good as I used to be. There is one thing that has remained constant down through the years, however....I'm nothing without Him! Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXCVI

I grew up on, in, and around Catahoula Lake. In those days, during the coldest winter months, its depth was only 2 to 3 feet, so, technically, a person could put on waders and walk completely across its entire five-mile width. Every winter, tens of thousands of ducks would flock to it, just in time for duck season, making it a duck hunter's paradise. That is the setting for this first story: One Saturday morning, a few of us boys headed down to the lake to do some duck hunting. We put on our waders and marched out into the icy water, looking for that just right spot where we just knew the ducks would be flying. Not long after we reached the place we were looking for, a dense fog settled in over the lake, making it difficult to distinguish even the faces of our friends who were no more than five feet away.  At first we thought we'd wait it out, but the fog just seemed to get thicker, so we decided that we were wasting our time and we headed for home. When we had been walking about fifteen minutes, an older man appeared right in front of us, almost as if he had just materialized in the fog right before our eyes. We exchanged greetings, and then the conversation went like this, with me as the spokesman for our group. Man: I don't think you're gonna get any ducks today. Me: I know.  That's why were heading out of here. Man: Where are you boys headed now? Me: We parked our trucks at that camp over by the sand ridge. Man (Naming the camp's owner):  Yeah, I know the one, but if that's where you're headed, you're going the wrong direction.  You need to go that way (pointing in a direction that would require us to make a 135 degree right turn). Me: Really? Wow!! Well, thank you for your help. He bade us a good day and disappeared into the fog. We then had a spirited debate as to whether we should follow his advice. Some argued that we were definitely going back exactly the way we came, and besides, none of us knew that man, so why should we trust him? Since I was the eldest member of the group, at the ripe old age of sixteen, it fell my lot to make the call.  I agreed that none of us knew him, but he apparently knew his way around and had no reason to want to lead us astray, and besides, it's easy to get turned around in the fog.  I decided that we would go the way he pointed, but I must tell you, it sure didn't feel right. About twenty minutes later, we started coming up on some landmarks that we recognized and we were able to regain our bearings. I'll never know who that man was, but I'm certainly glad we happened upon him that foggy morning, and I'm glad we changed our direction. Another early morning, many years later:  Angie and I were at Reagan International Airport, near Washington, DC, preparing to board a flight heading for home. The line to go through security was ridiculously long, but since we had no other choice, we made our way to the end of the line....to wait. After about thirty minutes, we had moved up to the point to where there were only about a hundred or so people ahead of us, with at least double that amount behind us.  We had already checked our bags, so all we had with us at the time were a book and a small carry-on for each of us. There we stood....just two inconspicuous faces in a sea of humanity.  I looked to my right just as a busy looking airport employee walked by, quickly scanning the long line of restless travelers. To this day, I have no idea what it was about Angie and me that caught that man's attention, but when he saw us, he stopped and walked back directly to us. He spoke first: "Sir, where are you folks headed?" "Monroe, Louisiana, by way of Atlanta." "Okay, you're in the wrong line." What I DID NOT want to do was have to give up my place in line and start all over at the end of another line. However, what I DID want to do was go home. So we stepped out of line and followed his instructions, thankfully to a shorter, faster-moving line....the line that would get us home. Those are not the only times in my life when I've had to make bold changes that, at the time, just did not feel right...times when I've had to allow logic to overrule my emotions. I hate to think what would've happened that foggy Saturday morning so many years ago had we not turned back, almost to the complete opposite direction we had been moving. If Angie and I had stubbornly refused to step out of our line in the airport that morning, we would not have made it home. A friend confided to me a while back that his life just wasn't taking him where he had planned to go. As one looking on as an observer, I could see where he was doing some things wrong, and I pointed them out to him, yet he refused to hear it, and continued what he had been doing, only with more intensity...and his story is still the same today.  That's like finding out you're on the wrong road, but instead of turning to the right road, you just pick up your speed on the wrong road, which only gets you to the wrong place quicker. Sometimes we stay on the wrong path for so long that it starts to feel like home, which only makes the needed change harder to do. This article is already longer than I wanted it to be, so I don't have room to tell you about some changes that I've had to make that even caused me to shed a few tears.  If the path you're traveling is not getting you where you need to go, chances are, you need to change paths...regardless of how hard it is to do.  Moving off the familiar road is never comfortable, but when you make the change, and you know it was the right one, you'll be so glad you did it. After all, what's more important to you, your destination or your path? Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXCV

They're totally different, but they work so well together that we rarely mention one without mentioning the other, practically in the same breath. Salt and pepper. Rice and gravy. Peanut butter and jelly. Possum and okra. Well, okay, scratch the last one, but you get the message. What do salt and pepper have in common? Not much. Do you ever have a hard time distinguishing the difference between rice and gravy? No way, yet we're so accustomed to seeing them together that when we think of one, we automatically think of the other. Can you think of people like that?  I'm not really talking about husbands and wives, but just good friends...people who've become so close down through the years that we think of them like we do salt and pepper.  I know a few people who are like that.  It's not that they aren't friends with other individuals, but there's a bond between the two that's so much stronger than it is with other people. I wish I could call it an unbreakable bond, but unfortunately, as I just witnessed, those bonds CAN BE broken, and it may not be an earthshaking event that causes it. This has been a typical conversation between some of my friends and me when we're working a trade show: "Where are we gonna eat tonight?" "It doesn't matter to me...I'll go with the concensus." "What are Ray and Elvin doing?" Or it may go something like this on set-up day: "I wonder where Ray and Elvin are." "I don't know. They're usually here by this time of day." Ray and Elvin are different personalities and they work for different companies, yet for years they have been such good friends that their names are like salt and pepper or peanut butter and jelly. It's been that way as long as I've known them.  Where one would go, the other went also. It's hard for us who have known them down through the years to say Ray's name without also saying "Elvin." They're both good guys, and have been best friends for many years...until two days ago. I witnessed the split.  This is an over-simplification, but Ray asked someone to do him a favor, which was granted, but the way it was done caused Elvin a slight inconvenience, and that made him mad. He blamed it on Ray, although if it had been done the way Ray asked, it would not have affected Elvin at all. Elvin verbally attacked Ray, catching him totally off guard, and it went downhill from there. I talked to Ray about it, and another friend talked to Elvin. Ray went even beyond the advice I gave him in trying to resolve the situation, but Elvin said he was done with Ray forever. (He also said some other things that I won't repeat.) I'm not sure why I'm even telling you about it, unless it's due to the fact that it upset me and I need to talk about it to someone...and I picked you. I really believe if it had been something major, they would've worked through it, yet they allowed a tiny, insignificant, unintentional event to destroy a lifelong friendship. I guess it's human nature to focus so intently on the mountain in front of us that we allow a molehill to trip us up, and that's sad. Close friends are among the most valuable possessions we have, and it should be unacceptable to allow those bonds to be broken by minutia. Peanut butter is just not the same without jelly. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXCIII

There's just something about me that my wife loves. I mean...how could she NOT love me after all I do for her?  Well, okay, maybe I don't do THAT much, but I do a few things for her. I wonder if that's why she loves me. I sure hope that's not the reason. Come to think of it, I have two kids who love me too, but I do a few things for them as well. I wonder if they love me because of what I do for them.  I've done a lot of good things for all of them, but I have to tell you, I really don't think that's why they love me. You see, if they love me because of what I do for them, it's not me that they actually love...it's themselves, and they don't love me, they just love what I do. If they loved me simply because of the benefits, I would constantly be in competition with someone else who might can provide more for them than I can.  No, that's not why they love me. Their love for me is unconditional. It's a Godly kind of love.  Let me explain. There's something about me that God loves also. Is it because of how good I am?  Well, let me tell you what He said about that.  He said in His sight, my righteousness is like filthy rags. (Oh, and He said the same thing about you too.)   It's impossible for me to be good enough to earn His love, yet He loves me anyway.  Why? I'm certainly not anyone special, but, just as my family, He loves me for who I am. Even when I try my best to be as good as possible, I don't get any stars, because I'm just doing what I'm supposed to do anyway. I don't get extra credit for simply doing my duty. I'm friends with a couple who went to China to adopt a baby girl. She was just a baby, so there was nothing she could do for them, yet from the first day, they loved her enough to bring her into their home and make her an equal heir with their other "biological" children.  There's just something about love that can't be earned, no matter how much you do or how hard you try. My realtor may bend over backwards and perform some praiseworthy deeds to put me in the home of my dreams, but when it's all said and done, he's still just my realtor, and he doesn't get a room in my new home. I may appreciate everything he did, but his hard work can't buy my love. Love just happens, then love begets love. My wife and I started loving each other at the same time, and each of our loves was made stronger based on the love from each other. Then she and I began loving each of our kids while they were still in the womb, and as a result, their love for us is unbreakable. God loved me BEFORE I was in my mother's womb....the perfect example of love without condition. If there are conditions, it isn't love. Love can't be bought, and if you try, you're wasting your time and resources. If you want to know what love really is, you should get to know God, because, according to the first memory verse I ever had to learn, "God is love." Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXCII

As I sat and listened to a poem that our pastor read to the congregation a couple weeks ago, my mind went back to an event that happened a few miles from my home when I was a kid. There was a man who had been working in the logging industry for many years, and as a result of his decades of experience, he had become what we would call an expert in his field. This man knew what he was doing, and he knew how to safely take some shortcuts that would have been too dangerous for the novice logger to attempt.  Naturally, as so often happens, when his son became an adult, he chose to follow in his dad's footsteps.  One day there was a tragic accident when a tree fell on this man's son, killing him instantly. The son had been taking one of those risky shortcuts that he had seen his father take so many times before. Our neighbors told us that the distraught father kept saying over and over, "I told him and told him how to do it right and not to do it like I do." The poem I mentioned had nothing to do with the logging industry, but if the man I told you about could have heard and heeded its words, it may have saved the life of his son.  Its basic message is that our words of advice and instruction carry weight only when they are matched by our actions, and that is especially true when it comes to our children. One of the worst sermons ever preached is "Do as I say, not as I do."  How can I tell my son not to smoke when he sees me smoking? Will he listen to my warnings about the dangers of alcohol when he sees me drinking?  Chances are, if I "send" my kids to church instead of "taking" them, when they're grown and on their own, they'll neglect church just like I do. As I look back over my childhood years, I have to say, "Thank you Lord for parents who 'practiced what they preached'." Although finances were tight for our family for practically all of my childhood, I couldn't have been more blessed. Dad worked hard all day, and then came home and worked hard in the garden. Mom didn't have an outside job, but she worked hard from sun up till sun down. They made us kids do chores such as shelling peas and butter beans, but they shelled them with us. They told us to get involved in every aspect of the church, and then they showed us how by doing the same thing. I'm proud of the adults that my kids have become, but I have to give credit where credit is due. It all goes back to the type of homes in which my wife and I grew up. Although they may have never used these exact words, both her parents and mine lived by this principle:  Words of instruction without example are meaningless, while words followed by example are among the most powerful forces on earth. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXCI

The pastor was out of town, and he had arranged for a prominent minister to fill the pulpit in his absence.  Just before he left town, he had called me and asked me to take charge of the Sunday service up until the point to where I would turn it over to the visiting minister.  Although I was still a young man at the time, I had grown up in the type of home where there was never a discussion as to whether or not we would be attending church that weekend....it was understood that we would be there, so I pretty much knew what to do and what to say.  As a result, I felt fairly comfortable with my duties that day, but that was about to change.  Although I can't fully recall just what I said, I do remember that as I was introducing the guest speaker, my tongue got tangled up, and some words came out wrong, causing me to feel totally humiliated.  As I look back on that incident, I suspect that our speaker had made similar mistakes, because he handled it perfectly, and put me back at ease.   I wish I could tell you that was the only time I've ever made a fool of myself, but if I did, I'd be lying.  I've spoken when I should've kept my mouth shut.  I've remained silent when it would have been better for me to speak.  I've laughed when I should've been somber.  I've lost my temper over insignificant incidents.  I've been guilty of being an over aggressive driver, trying to punish other drivers for their mistakes.  I've made parenting mistakes. The list goes on and on.  Although it's not proper to rejoice over the misfortunes of others, I must admit that it makes me feel much better just knowing that you've done or said things that make you feel foolish just as many times as I have.      I was reminded of that fact just recently at church when I was introduced to a lady I had never met before.  As she was attempting to tell me how happy she was to meet me, she said something that made absolutely no sense, and that made her feel flustered, which messed things up even more.  Her face suddenly turned blood red, and I could tell she was so embarrassed that she would probably never want to see me again.  I did my best to initiate a conversation that would ignore her mishap and put her back at ease, because, although she had no way of knowing what was going on in my mind, I wasn't thinking how dumb she was or laughing at her blunder...instead, I was thinking, "I need to help her get through this, because I know exactly how she feels."    They're called gaffes.  You've made them.  I've certainly made more than my share.  If you look around you, everyone else you see has done the same.  There's no way to recall all the times in my life I've wished I could go hide behind a rock or crawl in a hole somewhere, just to hide my humiliation.  Thinking back on the incident at church that Sunday so many years ago, I think I'm really glad it happened, because no one remembers it now but me, and the way our visiting minister handled it was a lesson to me in dealing with a situation like that when someone else messes up.  I've also figured out the best way to deal with it when it's me that's feeling foolish:  I tell people about it and laugh at myself.  It makes others feel better about their own stupid mistakes, and it works wonders in making me feel better about myself.   Preston     

Thinking Out Loud, VolumeCCCXC

I have some good news and some bad news.  Here's the good news:  Your situation is going to change.  Here's the bad news:  Your situation is going to change.  This is mainly a reminder to myself.  You see, I have a tendency sometimes to really get a good case of the mulligrubs when my life seems to be in disarray, and then when the good news does take effect and I find myself in a situation where things appear to be going smoothly, I start feeling like I've finally gotten the world by the tail and everything will be good from now on.    Have you ever been in a situation where your finances are upside down, and your outgo exceeds your income?  I know that feeling well, so I know it can be quite depressing.  The times when I was dealing with that circumstance, I would lie awake at night and wonder if there would ever be an end to my dilemma.  Well, I'm happy to report that, just like I was saying in the beginning, my situation changed, things eased up, the sun started shining, and I was soon enjoying the good feeling of being able to put some money aside for rainy days, but here's the trouble:  Although I may have been putting some funds aside for rainy days, to be honest, I really didn't think the rainy days would ever return.  I kept forgetting that rule that says "Your situation is going to change," so when it happened, it would catch me off guard again.    I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, and one of the biggest is forgetting that my situation is going to change, regardless of what is going on in my life.  It's always a mistake to forget that.  When I'm on bottom, I need to remember that my situation is going to change.  When I'm on top, I need to keep in mind that I will not always be there.  Maybe it's just another one of those bits of wisdom that comes with maturity, but the message is starting to sink into my brain that things won't always be as they are now, and I have to tell you, knowing that makes navigating this life a little easier.  I'm no longer as devastated when the bottom falls out, and I'm not as apt to get cocky when I've got the world at my fingertips.  I guess you could say I keep a better attitude about my state of life, regardless of what it is, and I've found it's easier to pick myself up out of the doldrums when I have the right attitude. By the same token, when I keep a good attitude, I'm easier to live with when things are going my way, and I don't have as much of a tendency to make foolish decisions.    Your situation is going to change.  That statement may be good news or bad news, but whatever it is, it's a fact of life.  I'm glad that I'm finally starting to get a grasp on that indisputable fact.  I hope that doesn't change.   Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXXIX

I listened with interest as a friend explained to me what her mom does for a living. She is employed by a prominent American university, and she works eight hours a day, five days a week, attempting to improve our nation's streets and highways. Most of her time is spent experimenting with different formulas that would upgrade the quality of asphalt and other pavement compounds. Her goal is to make it quieter, less slippery when wet, less likely to develop ruts that would hold water on rainy days, easier on tires, and helpful in improving fuel economy. So....what does she do when she achieves success attaining some or all of those goals? She goes back to work the next day and continues working on her projects as if she was just beginning. Until the day arrives when there are no more accidents, and highway deaths are just a memory, she still has a mission to accomplish.  If absolute perfection has not yet been achieved, there will still be a work for her to do. In one respect, I can see how that could be discouraging as she considers the fact that she will likely never be able to sit back and say, "I have finally arrived.  There's nothing more that needs to be done."  On the other hand, she should find tremendous satisfaction as she looks back and observes just how far she has come and how much progress has been made. Not only that, she can also find pleasure in the knowledge that her life still has purpose and she still has a goal to pursue. As I contemplate her situation, my mind takes me to the similarities with her life and mine. Every day that I live, I'm striving to perfect all the different areas of my life....a goal that I will never attain, because complete perfection can never be achieved.  That brings me to the questions, "Why try so hard to achieve a goal that is out of reach? Shouldn't I have the option of one day just sitting back and saying, 'This is as far as I'm going'?" Well,that may work for some people, but not for me. The way I see it, I still have too far to go on this journey with no end. I still have too many flaws and make too many mistakes. Again I ask, "Why even try for perfection when everyone knows I'll never get there?"  Here's why:  Since the day I began this task, I have made tremendous progress. By this world's standards, I never was a bad person, and chances are, you weren't either, but as I look back on my past, I'm amazed at just how much I've improved over the years. Although this trip has had its share of ups and downs, hills and valleys, victories and defeats, over the long haul, I have become a much "higher quality" individual, and that's what keeps me going. I'm a better man today than I was yesterday. Tomorrow I will be a better man than I am today. As I continuously grow older, I'm constantly being made new. As long as our highways have room for improvement, my friend's mother still has a reason to go to work every day. As long as I am so apt to mess up and make mistakes, I still have a job to do. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, however. When the day comes that I take my first step onto the streets of gold, into His presence, I will become like He is...and He's perfect. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXXVII

Unless I live to be at least 124 years old, the majority of my life is behind me. I can honestly say that I have few regrets, but there is one that I want to tell you about so I might can help you avoid the same one. I will mention, however, that I see people around me every day who seem to be making the same mistakes I made, but to an even greater extent. All of my life so far I've tried to keep a smile on my face and a positive outlook on life, and while some of it was strictly an acting job on my part, most of it has been for real. I realize that no one can be "up" all the time, but the mistakes I've made primarily have to do with other people and uncontrollable circumstances. Let me give a couple examples of what I mean.  I had a dinner appointment with a business colleague and some prospective new clients in Fayetteville, Arkansas, which is more than six hours from home. I left home in plenty of time to arrive at my destination with more than an hour and a half to spare. On the way up, as I was driving on I-40 between Little Rock and Conway, I noticed that the traffic ahead of me was at a standstill. That interstate had literally become a parking lot. People were getting out of their cars and standing around right there on the highway. The longer we waited, the madder and more agitated I became, because there was  absolutely nothing I could do about it.  It was bugging me because I'm the type person who does not like to show up late, but all my fretting did no good whatsoever. When the traffic finally started creeping ahead again and I passed the wreck that had caused the delay, I had a reality check when it dawned on me just how selfish I had been. The people involved, who had been taken either to the hospital or the morgue, had had their day interrupted much worse than mine had been. Besides that, I made it to my appointment on time anyway. Second example:  I used to work for a man who had a reputation for being so hard on his employees it would make their lives miserable. My own health began to suffer due to the many sleepless nights I spent just worrying about what kind of mood he would be in the next day, and when I would get up in the mornings, my nerves would be so shot I couldn't even drink my coffee. I would usually end up pouring it down the drain. It's a fact that if you work with other people, there will be some who will constantly be trying to steal your joy, and there are so many of them out there, you'll find at least one on every job if there are several people working.  I realize that overlooking that and not letting it bother you is easier said than done, but if you let them get to you, they're the winners and you're the loser. It's also a fact of life that bad things are gonna happen and there's nothing you can do to prevent them.  Worrying and stressing over uncontrollable situations will not make them better...it will only make you less happy.   Maybe it just comes with maturity, but I'm happy to report that I've come a long way in maintaining my joy when the inevitable situations occur that I can't control. No...I haven't made it all the way, but I'm amazed at how much progress I've made. If there's something I can do about an unpleasant situation, you can bet I'll be trying to fix it, but if it's out of my hands, I'm gonna put a smile on my face and enjoy this limited time I have left of my one and only shot at life. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXXVI

We complain about the prices, yet we buy more than we need. We know it's required for our survival, yet if it doesn't meet our expectations, we throw it away.  We've become so adapted to its abundance that we take it for granted. We play with it; we make it pretty and take pictures of it to post on Facebook; we brag about how ours is better than yours. Its accessibility is obvious...all we have to do is take a look in the mirror or at our neighbors. Yes, we have become spoiled, but that doesn't mean we're unthankful; in fact our gratitude is where I want to spend some time today. I've never done any type of study on this topic, so I have no idea how many Americans do any type of praying on a regular basis. I know there are some (My mother was a good example.) who talk to God at least an hour a day. And then there are others who haven't said a prayer in years, but if you were to speculate just what type of prayers are uttered by Americans more than any other type, what type of praying would you say is the most common?  I believe it's what we refer to as "saying grace," the prayer before our meals. I don't eat a meal without offering a prayer of gratitude, even if it's a silent prayer. That's the way I was brought up. I've noticed countless scores of others doing the same thing. Now let's go back to the topic we were discussing in the first paragraph. Although I didn't specify what I was talking about, by now you've probably figured out that it was "food."  Could it be that the reason food is so abundant in our nation is the fact that it is the one blessing for which we most often say "thanks?"  Can you think of some other of life's necessities that we could use more of?  Obviously, if it's a necessity of life, we must have some of it, or we wouldn't be here, although we could sure stand a little extra.   What if we tried verbally expressing gratitude to God a little more often for what we DO have...like we do with food?   We can take a look at the story of the ten lepers and find an example of just how important it is to say "Thank you."  Of the ten who were healed, only one returned to express his gratitude, and he was "made whole," which means that although all of them were healed or cured, the one who said "Thank you" was restored to his condition of his pre-leprosy days, with no signs that he had ever had the disease. I don't mean to imply that none of us are thankful...I'm just wondering if we, as a nation, would try thanking God for our other blessings as much as we do for our food, we may find that we'll be living with more abundance than we ever dreamed. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXXV

Something was eating at me to the point that it was affecting my own personal happiness and even my health, and what made it difficult was I had done nothing wrong to bring it on. I couldn't sleep at night. I felt betrayed, mainly because I HAD been betrayed. You may disagree with the way I handled it, but I have to tell you...my method worked. Here's what happened: Several years ago, I was in need of employment, and I had heard about an awesome opportunity. I mentioned it to a "friend," and told him what I was doing to try to secure this great job. Well, apparently after I told him about it, he started thinking about it and decided he wanted that job for himself, so he called my prospective new employer and told him that if he hired me, he would end up being disappointed in my performance, so he should hire him instead. Thankfully, I ended up getting the job anyway, and right after he hired me, my new boss told me about the phone call he had received from my "good buddy." Although the actions of my so called friend had no adverse effect on my securing the employment I had been seeking, the personal hurt and devastation I felt was immeasurable. The excitement and feelings of accomplishment I should have been feeling were overshadowed by the emotional pain I was experiencing as a result of my betrayal. I'm usually pretty good at hiding my real true feelings, so not many people ever even knew what had happened, but I must admit, it consumed my every waking moment, which was most of the time, since my nights consisted of tossing and turning all night long. I knew it wouldn't be long until I would be coming face to face with my betrayer, and I worried myself sick about the confrontation that would follow. Something had to be done...quickly. I can't really tell you if my answer came to me in a dream, or if it was just a subconscious thought as I was lying in bed one night, but two simple words that almost seemed laughable popped in my head:  Forgive him. Huh?!  How could I forgive someone who hadn't even asked for forgiveness?  Here's why:  I wouldn't be doing it for his benefit....it was for me and my health. A  confrontation would've ended badly, with hard feelings lasting a lifetime, so instead, I forgave him, even without his repentance. Now, I'm not God, so I didn't have the ability to forget, but I found out that the forgiving part was fairly easy. I never confided in him ever again, but we got along fine in the days and years that followed. As far as I know, he went to his grave without ever becoming aware of the fact that I had known what he had done since just a couple weeks after he had done it. Maybe I should've confronted him with the situation and tried to talk it out with him, but there was at least a fifty per cent chance that it could've gotten ugly, and that would not have benefitted anyone. Instead, I choose to believe that after he reflected on his actions, he regretted betraying a friend, and though he never mentioned it to me, he was truly sorry for his actions.  That was what he needed to do for his own peace of mind, and I did what I did for my benefit. As far as I'm concerned, the issue has been resolved and the case is closed. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXXIV

The bulldozer operator, through an act of carelessness, struck a large tree with the blade of his machine, leaving a deep gash in its trunk. That tree, however, was a living, breathing creation of the Almighty God, who placed within all living things a self-healing mechanism that serves to prolong its life. Therefore that tree, though the injury was severe, over time, was totally restored to perfect health. All that was left was a scar. That leaves us with a question:  If God has the ability to restore that tree to perfect health, doesn't He also have the power to remove the scar?  Why would He choose to leave that constant reminder of that past injury? When I was a little kid, my great grandmother had one of those old type wells in her back yard that had a long, slender bucket with a rope and pulley, and we would lower the bucket into the well until it filled with water, then we would pull it back out of the well and empty the water into a pail. As kids we loved to go get water for Grandma Francis. One day, my cousin, Garland, and I were getting her some water, and I was looking over into the well as Garland pulled the bucket up,  and just as I looked over the side,  he jerked on the rope, and the bucket struck me just above my left eye, leaving a large cut on my eyebrow. Just like the tree that was hit by the bulldozer, my eyebrow healed over time, but even though that incident happened more than fifty years ago, I still have a scar on my left eyebrow. Again I have to ask, "When God gave my body the ability to heal itself, why didn't He also give it the ability to heal the scar?" Have you ever had an injury, either physical or emotional, that caused you great pain, but with time, healing came, although it left you scarred?  I lost my younger brother three years ago, and I must tell you, I just wasn't prepared for how bad it hurt. The healing process, however, is well underway, but it's obvious that I will always have that invisible scar. Why?  There must be some reason that when God heals, He chooses to leave a scar, because He definitely has the power to heal that too. As I was looking at myself in the mirror this morning, I noticed that scar above my eye for the millionth time, and something clicked in my mind. I wondered just how many cuts, scrapes and bruises I've had in my lifetime that I don't remember, but I vividly recall the incident with the bucket at the well. Why do I remember that particular one?  That constant reminder on my left eyebrow won't let me forget.   Then my mind went back to the emotional scar that I carry as a result of the loss of my brother, and I realized that I cherish that scar, and I never want to lose it. When we are experiencing deep pain, we begin to feel that healing will never come, but healing does come, and then we begin to forget just how awful the pain was that we had to experience. Most of my past pain that left without leaving a scar has long ago been forgotten, but where there are scars, there are also memories. Some painful events of our past should always be remembered, and our scars are the tools that make it happen. You know...I've come to the conclusion that when God created us, He must've known what He was doing after all. Preston Sent from my iPhone=

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXXIII

Have you ever jumped out of an airplane just for fun?  Do you ever do any parasailing?  Have you ever gone on a real African Safari?  How many times have you gone rafting down the Colorado River?  Well, I've never actually done any of those things, although I can say I've had my share of fun.  (I've done some rafting, just not on the Colorado.)  No doubt many of you have experienced at least one of the activities I mentioned, and there's a remote chance that there may be a few lucky souls who have done all of them, but even if you have, how do you spend the majority of your time?  It's not likely that any of you can say you do any of those things on a daily basis.  So, I guess my question is, would you say that much of your life is pretty dull? Angie and I often laugh about how predictable we are and how we act just like old people. That's fine, though, because we have the freedom to do whatever we want, and that's just what we're doing.  So what if we seem to be living in a rut...it's a rut of our own choosing.  When I first started writing this article, it didn't occur to me that it is being written for publication on Friday, July 12, 2013, which happens to be my 62nd birthday, so maybe I have an excuse for being habitual. It doesn't bother me if my life seems routine, or maybe even a little mundane, because my predictability is really what you love about me anyway....and your routines are what people love about you. Let me explain. This past Fathers Day as I was reading some of the posts on Facebook that my friends were writing in honor of their dads, I especially enjoyed one by Greg Bailey as he was listing the things that he knew his dad would be doing that morning, simply because it was what he does every Sunday morning...loving God and serving others...and Greg loves that about his dad. My mom went to Heaven six years ago, but my fondest memories of her are when we were just sitting on her porch, talking.  How many funerals have you attended when the pastor would point out a certain pew and say, "There will be an empty spot on the end of that pew, because that's where he always sat?"  I recall a friend telling me one day that she and her mom were cleaning out some rooms in her mom's house, and they came across some old clothes and hats that had belonged to her dad who had died eight years earlier, and she could still smell her dad's scent in his items.  She said just being able to smell him again brought back so many pleasant memories. As you pause to remember your loved ones who have passed on, do you mostly recall their "earth shaking" moments?  Chances are, what you remember most are their everyday activities. After all, it's those everyday routines that really describe who we are.  So...I'm not gonna worry if it seems like I'm in a rut. It's a rut I want to be in, and besides, that's what you're gonna miss about me when I'm gone. Preston Sent from my iPad=

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXXII

When you were in school, did you ever have to learn something and you would question how that could ever benefit you in real life?  If they would've paid me every time I asked that question, I could've retired before I ever started working. The thing I hated most was having to memorize poems, lines from plays, and portions of famous speeches, but I went ahead and learned them, and oddly enough, I can still quote most of them today. But the question is, am I benefitting from them in any way?  Well...I have to admit that lately I have been quoting one of them over and over as its real true meeting is starting to really sink into my brain. The date was March 20, 1775, when Patrick Henry stood before the Virginia Convention in Williamsburg and said, "I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death."  As a kid in school, those words were merely something to memorize for a passing grade in American History, but today as a sixty-one year old man, I am finding that they are starting to ring true in my mind.  The circumstances facing Patrick Henry and the other colonists back in the eighteenth century were different than what we face in our country today, but his message still has meaning for us 238 years later. Back in that day, they had no way to foresee the issues we would be facing from terrorism and crime in our day and time, but as I recall my childhood history lessons, I'm thankful that I was made to memorize those few words from one of our founding fathers. It seems to me that with each new law that is passed under the guise of "National Security," we lose another little snippet of our freedom, and one has to wonder, "Where is the stopping point?"  Now, don't get me wrong, I like having the assurance that our government is working to keep us safe, but I must also consider the cost of this security. Is our safety and security worth our rights and freedom? Let's take a look at that entire line from Patrick Henry's speech. The  first part says, "I know not what course others may take..." I've heard people talk who seem to have the opinion that whatever the cost, they want to be safe, but we should also ask if a life without freedom is worth living.  Now we'll go to the second part of the statement, and I have to say that I stand with Patrick Henry, "....but as for me, give me liberty or give me death."  I don't really fear death, but just like anyone else, neither am I in any kind of a hurry to die. I'd rather stick around a while longer, as long as I'm free. You see, there's one other consideration that some may not be taking into account, if I can use the words of Benjamin Franklin:  "Those who would trade in their freedom for their protection deserve neither." Preston Sent from my iPad=

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXXI

I've heard the stories, and I've sung the songs. I've read the descriptions, and I've daydreamed. Yet, even with all of that, I just can't seem to get a clear mental picture of what Heaven is like. Practically all of us can say we know a little bit about it, but I dare say that none of us can say that we know even a fraction of all there is to know, except that it's a wonderful place. In fact, if I can slightly paraphrase here, "eyes haven't seen, ears haven't heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man all that God has prepared for those who love Him." But...we can speculate, and I'm sure we've all done that too. Can you think of some aspects of Heaven that, in your mind, would be required to make it perfect? Can you think of some things that, if they are missing, would disappoint you? God will be there, and that will make it perfect, but if I correctly understand what I've heard and read, we will also be reunited with our loved ones who have gone on before us, and we'll be able to fellowship with them at our leisure. The subject of that reunion is where I want to spend some time today. With all my heart I believe that I have parents and grandparents, plus a whole host of friends and relatives, too numerous to mention, who will be there to welcome me when my time comes to enter there. To be perfectly honest, when you think of Heaven, don't you, more times than not, spend time thinking of your loved ones whom you expect to see there? And aren't there some who are a little more special to you than others? Don't you believe that reuniting with them will make Heaven just a little bit better for you? I feel like the majority of you have been right with me up to this point in this discussion, but here's where I may be about to lose some of you. We've recently lost a member of our family, causing our hearts to be broken, and it would make us so happy if we could be reunited with her in Heaven, but here's the deal....she's a dog. Although I can't tell you that I've read anything that proves that there will be animals in Heaven, I HAVE read a prophecy that said (paraphrasing again) "the wolf and the lamb will live together, the leopard will lie down with the baby goat, the calf and the yearling will be safe with the lion, and a little child shall lead them." That may take place during the thousand years of peace on earth...I'm not sure, but it gives me hope. We're looking with great anticipation toward that "great reunion day," and there are some dear loved ones we expect to see. It would sure be neat if Marlee would be one of them. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXX

Okay, I admit that she was being a little over dramatic, but the words she was yelling had some truth to them and served as some great fodder for me in the opening paragraph in today's article. Here's what happened: We were at a 5K race in Farmerville, Louisiana. I had already finished and was standing with the other finishers and spectators near the finish line watching the remaining runners as they were approaching the line. A good friend was chatting with me and had my attention until we suddenly heard some high-pitched screaming and yelling coming from a young woman who was about to reach the finish line. At first her words were inaudible, but as she got closer, we were able to make out what she was saying, "MOVE OUTTA MY WAY!! I CAN'T STOP! I CAN'T STOP!" She ran through the finish area, past the table where she was supposed to sign her card, on for at least thirty more yards before she finally came to a halt. (I have a feeling that if there had been a pond full of alligators behind the finish line, she would've been able to stop a little sooner.) Her words and actions helped prove a scientific fact: "Objects in motion tend to stay in motion." And if she had hit that table that was set up behind the finish line, she would have learned the second part of that statement: "Objects at rest tend to stay at rest." A train is a good example. It's hard to get a train moving when it's stopped, but once it gets going, it's hard to stop. Now, since a person's body is an object, we could also say, "Bodies in motion tend to stay in motion, and bodies at rest tend to stay at rest." You can watch a small child and find evidence of that theory. At night, if he's running and playing hard, he will not want to shut down when it's bed time, but the next morning after he's been sleeping all night, he will not want to get up. I know some people who seem to be addicted to exercise, and I think it's because they are bodies in motion. I also know some people who appear to be lazy, and that's because they're bodies at rest. And neither group really understands the other. One of my good running friends recently told her husband, "It's hard to explain the passion of climbing a mountain to a person who rides an escalator." As a runner, I have discovered that one of the hardest things for me is taking a break from running when I have an injury, but, you see, I am a body in motion. In those situations, like most die-hard runners, or "bodies in motion," I have a tendency to start back before I'm completely recovered. Another scientific fact is "it is possible for a body in motion to become a body at rest, and a body at rest can become a body in motion." Although it's rare, a workaholic can become lazy, but the good news is a slothful individual can, with some effort, become a "body in motion." Several years ago I made that effort and became that body in motion, and I plan to remain that way until the day I become, not simply a body at rest, but a body at eternal rest. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXIX

A few weeks ago I was honored to be a guest speaker in a class at a church across town. I spoke about some things that were very personal to me, and a couple times during my presentation, my voice broke. I know I shouldn't have been, but I was a little embarrassed by that. You see, I grew up in Nebo, Louisiana and now live in Duck Dynasty country, places where men are tough and act like men. It seems to me that there is a movement across our nation and even the world to try to, for lack of a better word, "feminize" men. I don't like that, and I don't think the majority of the population does either. At the same time, with the tremendous increase we now have of women holding public office, there is even pressure on them not to shed tears in public. As a general rule, however, it is much more acceptable in our society for a woman to cry than it is for a man. With all of that said, I do believe it is now becoming increasingly okay for men to show emotions in public, and I do like that. When John Boehner first became Speaker of the House in 2010, his voice broke several times during his first big speech, and for a while, he had to deal with being called a cry baby, but that was mostly coming from his political opponents. The same people who were calling him names would have defended a man from their own party if he had cried while speaking. I dare say that any man who is reading this article has had to fight back tears numerous times since becoming an adult, which means he understands when he sees another man choking up while trying to speak. Men will likely never be as prone to tears as women because we're wired differently, the way God designed us. However, I also believe that much of the pressure we face today as it relates to showing our emotions in public is "man-induced"...not "God-induced." In other words, my embarrassment for the tears during my speech was due to the fact that I was afraid it made me look weak. I've given it a lot of thought since then, though, and I think I'm beginning to gain a new perspective on that issue. It takes a man who is secure in his masculinity to cry in public without intimidation. There's no reason for me to feel any type of humiliation simply because I may have shed a tear or two, because I AM secure...and I'm tough. After all, I'm from Nebo. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXVIII

Polygamy is illegal. I just wanted to remind you of that fact in case you were thinking about adding another spouse. You just can't have more than one....at a time, at least. Hopefully you're like me and you're happy with the one you have, but honestly, are there ever times when you feel like throwing up your hands and saying "Life would be so much more simple if I was single?" Well, I don't want to be single, and my wife and I have a great relationship, but if I told you we aIways see eye to eye, I'd be lying, and the times when we don't are not happy times. Now, do you think if you had more than one, you'd be able to get both of them happy at the same time? The likelihood of that happening decreases with each additional spouse. Now let's switch to the topic of "Wisdom." Wisdom comes through the experiences of life and the ability to take what we've learned through those experiences and to apply them to the challenges we're facing today. I love to listen to the words of a man or woman who has accumulated wisdom down through the years as they instruct us on the best ways to navigate life. A sign of youthful wisdom is exhibited when a younger person will listen to and heed those words. Have you ever taken the time to sit down and read the book of Proverbs? It was written by the wisest man ever, King Solomon, who basically had the good fortune to be granted a wish by God, and he used that wish to ask for wisdom. As a result, he also ended up with great wealth because of that wisdom. Do you consider yourself a wise person, or do you sometimes feel that you must've gone to the restroom while God was handing out wisdom? If it's the latter, is it because of some foolish decisions you've made? Have you ever done something so stupid that you just felt like a total idiot? I have, but I've discovered something that gives me hope and makes me feel a little better about myself. To examine it will require going back to the first paragraph. We established the fact that taking more than one spouse to try to care for and please would not be a wise decision, but what if we tried to gain some perspective on that topic from King Solomon, the wisest man ever? If you know much Bible history at all, you will know that he tried more than one wife, but when that failed to make him happy, he tried adding another, and then another, until he ended up with not two, nor three, nor four, but seven hundred wives!! And then to top it off, in addition to all those wives, he added three hundred girlfriends on the side! Can you imagine?! I must tell you, though, that I can read his story and find some reassurance for myself: Sometimes even the wisest among us do some foolish things. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXVII

I had no choice in the matter, yet if I could go back and do it all over again, this time WITH a choice, I wouldn't change a thing. I just got lucky, I guess, because babies never get to choose their parents, and for me to have been born into the home I was born into was a blessing for which I will always be grateful. We don't have to look far to see children who aren't nearly as fortunate, and when we stop to think about it, it just doesn't seem fair. Much of who I am today is a direct result of the efforts and love of my mom and dad. At first, all my decisions were made by them, then, for the next couple decades, they gradually gave me the authority to make more and more of my own, until I finally reached the point to where 100% of my decisions were made by me. When that time arrived in my life, I had a huge choice to make. The biggest and most important decision a person will ever make is the one concerning his eternal destiny. The second most important, in my opinion, is the choice of who do I want to choose as a mate....the person I want to share the rest of my life with. Sometimes I wonder just how much thought is put into that choice. At that point of a person's life, he has more than likely spent at least twenty years living with parents and will probably not stop long enough to consider the fact that that amount of time is only a fraction of the time he will be spending with this new spouse. I wonder how many young adults pause long enough to consider what kind of mom or dad this person will become. I wonder how many take the time to try to foresee what kind of life he will have as a senior citizen with this prospective spouse. Hopefully they will at least look past the lust long enough to question if this is really love. How many brides-to-be spend more time planning a wedding than they do planning for all the days and years that follow? Angie and I dated for two years before getting married, and during that pre-nuptial period, we had the time to consider all those things, but honestly, I'm not sure just how much thought we put into it. What we did do, however, was make sure about the most important consideration...was it really love. I don't know that we actually thought hard enough to contemplate the possibility that we could potentially spend triple the time with each other as we did with our parents. Thank God we made sure it was love! Speaking of love, we experienced a whole new kind of love when our two kids came along, and I can't imagine a thing that either of them could do that would make us love them any less. The love that a parent has for a child is immeasurable and eternal. Angie and I can't begin to express how much joy those two have brought to our lives. For the rest of our time on earth they will be our kids, yet both of them spent their first two decades of life with us, then moved on....just the way it's supposed to be done. We cherish every moment we get to spend with each one of them, but those moments are now simply visits, and at the end of the day, it's back to just Angie and me. None of us had any options as to what family we would be born into, no more than our own kids had in their births. Like I was saying, I feel fortunate to have the family I had, and hopefully our kids feel the same way. Fortunately for those who feel less lucky in that regards, after about twenty years you will have an opportunity to bail. The one that really matters, though...the one that is eternal, you do have a choice, and that requires a degree of wisdom. I'm reaping the rewards of choosing wisely. So is my wife. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volulme CCCLXXVI

If I've heard it once, I've heard it said a thousand times..."I don't care one iota what other people think about me." Really? Okay then, consider this: Let's say that through your years of marriage, you have never even considered being unfaithful to your husband, yet for some reason, some false information has gotten around, and people's opinions of you suggest otherwise. Are you saying that, since you don't care what people think about you, that wouldn't bother you? Suppose you have always paid your bills in a timely manner, but the word on the street is you're a terrible credit risk. Are you saying that you wouldn't be upset by those allegations? It seems to me that, since I didn't care what people think about me, if I heard there were some rumors about me going around, I wouldn't even care to hear what's being said. If you've been reading my blog for a while, you've heard me talk about the difference between reputation and character, and how our reputation is what others think we are, and our character is what we actually are. In those articles, I stressed the fact that good character is more valuable than a good reputation, and while I continue to stand by that statement, I want to spend time today explaining why I think a good reputation is vital for a successful life. If you and I are having a conversation where we're expressing our opinions, would my opinions mean anything to you, or would you just let them go in one ear and out the other? I think that would depend on your opinion of me. If you thought of me as a windbag who spews out words simply for the joy of hearing myself speak, more than likely, you really wouldn't care to hear what I had to say. On the other hand, if you've known me to use sound judgment in the past, you would find me more interesting. If I want my words to carry weight, I need a good reputation. Would you feel safe in a car I'm driving? Would you trust me around your kids? Would you loan me fifty bucks? I think it would all depend on what you think about me. Sometimes I wish I could view myself through your eyes, but that's because I care about your opinion of me. Perhaps if I don't care what others think of me, it could indicate that I'm a selfish person...someone who feels that it's all about me. If I want to help others, I need others to trust me...and that means I need to have a good reputation. Let me just get down to what I really believe. Sometimes we may carelessly make the statement that we don't give a rip what others think, but if we'll stop and give it some thought, we'll find that we all care. Knowing that makes me feel better. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXV

As a runner and especially  as a marathoner, I was angered and saddened by the events in the Boston Marathon a few weeks ago. Like most Americans, I stayed glued to the television as they closed in on, and ultimately captured, the second suspect who perpetrated that horrific act of terror.  In fact, if you watched much TV at all during those few days, there wasn't much else to choose from in the way of programming, because that's practically all the news media talked about. I don't blame them for that...they were giving the public what they wanted. The nation watched these events unfold, and as a result, thousands of our citizens are afraid, or at least extremely nervous about attending or participating in events such as marathons or other big sporting events. Chalk one up for the terrorists. That's what they wanted. Like I was saying, the news media were just doing their job. If they hadn't reported those events as they did, there would have been a huge outcry from all of us. However, there are some related events that were NOT reported, and that's what I want to talk about today. Please understand that I don't mean to take away anything from the memory of those innocent victims who lost their lives that morning in Boston...I just want to tell you something that you didn't hear on the news that might make you feel a little less afraid. Here it is:  In this year's  Boston Marathon, tens of thousands of runners and hundreds of thousands of spectators went home safely to their families, just like they had planned. We, as humans, glamorize and focus on the spectacular, and we have a tendency to ignore the normal or most likely occurrences. You, me, and everyone else are gonna die someday, and none of us know when that day will come. Yes, it may be due to an act of terror, but the likelihood of that is minuscule. Just like you, I'm doing all I can to preserve my life for as long as I can, but I refuse to live my life in fear, especially of events that are so extremely unlikely. As a matter of fact, I'm sending you this message from Fargo, North Dakota, where I, along with my wife and some friends, will be participating in the Fargo Marathon tomorrow morning. It may be the last thing I do, but the likelihood of me dying was greater on my way to the airport yesterday morning than it has been at any time since. Approximately 40,000 people die on our highways every year, yet we all are driving just as much or more than ever. More than 600,000 people die from heart disease every year, yet we continue on with our lives as usual, even eating the types of food that increase our risks. Then we freak out when the spectacular happens to a few individuals, and the reason is, just like I said last week, the things we magnify are what appear larger in our lives. Tomorrow morning I will rise early and begin my run without fear, yet I will be running in honor of those who died or were injured in Boston. Sunday afternoon, I will board a plane and head for home without fear. Monday morning I will rise early and begin the long drive to a business meeting in Atlanta. That's when I'll be in the most danger, yet hundreds of thousands of people drive to and from Atlanta every year in complete safety, so I will not fear. Preston Sent from my iPad=

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXIV

It had been an especially stressful day...you know...that kind of day where everything that can go wrong does go wrong. When I finally had an opportunity to relax and clear my mind that evening, I kicked back in the recliner with a book that I had been reading. It was a biography of a man who had an unusually troubled life as a child, and that trouble followed him on into adulthood, and as I delved into the story that evening, I found myself reading about a young man who was dealing with alcoholism, drug abuse, family turmoil, and a life spent in and out of jail. If I was looking for a little pick-me-up that night, that book was not the place to go, because it was having the opposite effect on me. In retrospect, maybe it WAS what I needed, since it taught me a lesson. Here's how it happened: I was already feeling down, and my book was bringing me down even further. As I was reading, I pulled off my glasses to rub my eyes, and when I put them back on, I noticed a Bible on the table beside my chair. Half unconsciously, I picked it up, laid it on my knees, and opened it, while leaving the book I had been reading in my lap. I now had two books in my lap. One was a story of a man who had a multitude of problems, and the other was a compilation of solutions to all the problems that I and the man I was reading about had been facing. I glanced up at the Bible to see what portion of scripture I had turned to, but the words were blurry and out of focus, so I looked back down at my book to words that were clear and easy to read. So I went back to the book and all of the problems that came with it. It's simple to explain why the words in the Bible were unreadable while the words in my book were so clear. It was my glasses. I describe them as "no-line bifocals," but I think the technical terminology is "progressive lenses." I look through the bottom of the lenses to read, and I look through the top to see more distant objects. Since the book was more in my lap while the Bible was on my knees, when I looked at the book, I looked through the bottom, and when I looked at the Bible, I was looking through the top, causing the words to be out of focus. That's when it hit me. Those lenses are really magnifying glasses, which cause objects to appear larger. When I would look at my book, I was magnifying the problems, yet when I looked at the Bible, the book of solutions, I was treating it as something more distant since I viewed it through the top part of my lenses. I then realized that whatever I magnify will be what appears larger in my life. It's what will be more in focus. I was holding problems in my lap, yet I was holding the solutions in my lap as well, only a couple inches away, but they seemed unclear and out of focus, because I magnified the problems. Had I put forth the tiny effort to trade places with the book and the Bible, I would have reversed the situation, by magnifying the solutions and placing the problems in the "out of focus" area. God was in that Bible, ready to help. All I would've had to do was magnify Him and bring Him into focus. It would've been so easy to do. Instead, I went right back to my problems, while leaving the solutions right there in my lap. I can't really explain why I did that. Maybe it's because, as Barney Fife would say, "I must be some kind of a nut." Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLXXIII

It was a long time ago when I reached the stage of life where I could be described as a mature adult, big enough to take care of myself. However, as of right now, I'm still there. As I mentioned just a few weeks ago, it's possible, if I live long enough, that I will one day arrive at the point where I'll need someone else to care for me, but until that time comes, I'd like to make a deal with you: If I'm having issues with another individual and it doesn't involve you, please stay out of it and let me handle it as I see fit. I will, at the same time, offer you the same courtesy. If an individual is being disrespectful to me, and from your point of view, I'm not being aggressive enough in defending myself, please consider the possibility that I may know something about that situation of which you are unaware. I promise you, if I need help, I'll let you know. It could be that I have a strategic plan in dealing with the problem, and any involvement from someone else may completely disrupt what I have working. Sometimes individuals may be perfectly capable of doing whatever they so desire when it comes to defending themselves, yet they choose to remain humble and let it ride. That's called meekness. Now, just to be clear, I want to make it known that I'm really not having any problems with any of my friends in this area, so these words are not being directed at anyone else...I'm aiming them at myself. You see, I have a close friend who is constantly being mocked and disrespected, yet he just takes it and let's it go without saying a word, and I have to fight the urge to jump in and come to his rescue. I have to keep reminding myself that he's stronger and smarter than I am, and if I jump in and start trying to throw my weight around in his defense, I might just be ruining the whole situation for him and his strategy in dealing with it. I've decided to go ahead and tell you who this friend is. It's God. He loves it when I introduce Him to my friends who don't know Him, but when it comes to setting someone straight or punishing someone who may be doing Him wrong, I think He'd rather I allow Him to handle it the way He sees fit. One thing I know, God wants to be friends with whomever is doing Him wrong, and if I jump in and make that less likely to happen, I've just done Him a great disservice. He has made it clear that my job is to bring people to Him, not turn anyone against Him. I've learned that if I stick to my assigned tasks and let Him handle the dirty work as He sees fit, the results will be much better, and everyone is happier. Preston