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=