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.