Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDXLVI

The clouds were dense, thick, and hanging low in the atmosphere. My friend, a young, newly licensed pilot, was learning first hand just how dense, thick and low they were, and it was not a comfortable feeling. This was a completely new experience for him, and although he wasn't thinking along these lines at that moment, he was learning an important lesson on the difference between faith and trust. In aviation school he had been through instrument training, but he had always had an experienced instructor along in case something went wrong. Today it was just him and the instruments, and they were telling him it was time to begin his descent as he approached his destination. His instructors had drilled into him a deep faith in those instruments, but now he found himself having to take that faith one step further and turn it into trust.....a scary feeling. What he saw as he looked out his window was....nothing. His visibility was zero. What if those instruments were wrong? If that were the case he would soon be coming in contact with treetops, buildings, power lines, or an infinite number of other possibilities. He resisted the urge to begin climbing again, and instead he kept following his instruments as he continued his slow, steady descent, hopefully toward an airport he could not see. Finally he broke through that low cloud ceiling, and there, directly in front of him was the runway. "Whew!" Those instruments had brought him home! Here's my point: He would not have been flying if he hadn't had faith in those instruments, but when he had to turn his faith into trust, a degree of fear also crept into his mind. Can trust and fear coexist? It certainly did in his case, but he landed safely because he didn't allow the fear to override his trust. My daughter has a new puppy named Fontenot, and he loves her with a love that is completely unconditional. He trusts her with his very life. Sometimes she has to take him to the veterinary clinic to get his shots, and even then, he willingly submits to her will, but that doesn't mean he isn't terrified, which is evidenced by his uncontrollable shaking. I feel certain he will never understand the purpose for those trips to the clinic, yet through it all, his trust in my daughter, his provider, remains stronger than his fear. We are told if we have faith the size of a grain of mustard seed, we can move mountains, and I believe it. Lately I've been seeing some posts on Facebook by a young mother who is facing some very serious health issues, and she admits she is terrified out of her mind, yet I've also detected a degree of faith and even trust in her statements. I can't be critical of her for the fact that she's scared, because if and when my doctor ever gives me bad news, I will experience fear. You will too. This is not an argument against the statement that "fear is the absence of faith," since fear moves into the vacancy where faith should be. I'm just saying we have the promise that only a small amount of faith can work wonders. All of us will likely face periods in our lives when we have to turn our faith into trust, and let's face facts....we'll be scared, but that's okay. It's human nature. I like the way John Wayne said it, "Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway." There's no shame in being scared. We just have to make sure the fear doesn't defeat our trust. Preston Sent from my iPad

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDXLV

He's possessed." It's a phrase we throw around lightly, but what does it really mean? My initial impulse when I think of the word "possess" is to define it as "to own," but the more I think about it, I conclude that it's much more than just ownership. As an example, let's say someone steals my car. Technically I would still OWN the car, but I wouldn't POSSESS it. To possess something, I must not only own it, but I must also have control of it. Therefore if I say "He's possessed," I'm implying that he is "owned" and "controlled" by something or someone. Some people's first reaction when they hear that phrase is to think he's being controlled by some kind of evil spirit, but the possibilities go far beyond that. Let me tell you a little story a friend told me that puts this topic into perspective: He said when he first got out of school and went to work, he saw on the dealer's lot a new truck he felt he couldn't live without. When he found out what the note would be, he knew it would be a struggle, but he could pay it, so he bought it. Then came the insurance bill and the gas bills he forgot to figure into the equation. He said owning that truck put him in such a bind, he only drove it to work and back. The rest of the time he and his truck just stayed home because he couldn't afford to go anywhere else. It then dawned on him that instead of him possessing the truck, the truck possessed him, because it basically controlled his life, and that truck he had wanted so badly became a detestable object in his life. I've known people who were so possessed by the desire to increase their possessions they literally turned control of all their activities over to those desires, even to the point of unethical dealings in pursuit of more and more "stuff." In the end, instead of being the owners, they became the owned. Have you ever known a young lady who became so obsessed with capturing the heart of some certain young man that she basically became his property and was completely owned and controlled by him? A quick note: Whatever is your obsession, you are likely to become its possession. I'm not saying that's always a bad thing, as long as your possessor always has your best interest at heart. Otherwise, it's not good. Bob Dylan wrote a song called "You're Gonna Have to Serve Somebody." Here's the question: Will the one I'm serving, my possessor, control my life with an attitude of greed and selfishness, or will his/her love for me be the motivation? If I am possessed by "things," my life will not be pretty nor happy. Here's my prayer: Dear Lord, please don't let my life be controlled by things or any other person. I only want to be controlled by You. Lord I know that decision has to be mine, so now I'm asking You to take complete possession of my life. Own me. Control me. I want to be Your property, because I know when I relinquish my will to Yours, everything else in my life will fall into its proper place, and happiness will truly be mine. Amen. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDXLIV

You can count on me! I'll be pulling for my team to win. In fact, the reason Angie and I made the trip to Southwestern Louisiana on Independence Day Weekend was to cheer them on. Some of the best boys baseball teams from several southern states converged on Sulphur, Louisiana for the USSSA World Series, and my eight year old grandson was fortunate enough to play for one of those teams, the West Monroe Sox. They put on a fantastic showing with a series record of five wins and three losses. What an awesome weekend! Before I get to the real point of this week's article, let me take one paragraph to describe the kind of talent we saw on display during that series. Those eight year old boys, and I'm talking about all of them....from every team, were quality players. Each player, from the top of the order to the bottom, was a threat when he stepped up to bat. Defensively, the quality of play from every team was remarkable. It was a weekend of great hitting, catching, throwing, running, sliding, and overall sportsmanship. It's difficult to find words that would adequately describe the improvement we saw in the way our boys performed from their first game of the season to the last. As I spent that weekend with our boys, however, interacting with them both on and off the field, I couldn't help but notice one major thing.....something we all tend to forget while they're actually on the field of play: At the end of the day, when the games are over and it's time to get some food and settle in for the evening, they're still just little boys. Maybe it's the quality of play we see during the games that makes us forget that all important fact. They're scared of the dark. They cry when they hurt their fingers. They fall asleep in the car and have to be carried in to bed by their parents. They still have their "little boy" voices. And most importantly, they hear when derogatory comments are yelled by adult spectators in the stands, and those thoughtless words bring pain to those young impressionable minds. Phrases like, "He can't run!" or "Easy out!" are remembered by those little guys when they lie in their beds at night, and also the next day when it's time to play again. It's fine to cheer your team on....that's why we were down there. It just needs to be done in a positive manner. To be honest, the vast majority of the people attending that event are quality people and wouldn't dream of uttering such hurtful words to players of any team, which means that type of chatter was rare, but it doesn't take much to do its damage. (Also, most of those comments I heard were during games when our boys weren't even playing.) If we want our little boys to grow up to be good sportsmen, it's up to us adults to teach them how by providing them with good examples. It's my hope that every little boy playing any type of sport can look back on those days with pleasant memories. Every word an eight year old hears from a thirty-eight year old should be instructive, encouraging, and loving, regardless of what team he's playing on. Here's hoping every adult gets this message soon. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDXLIII

Grandma meant well. She was only doing the best she knew with what information she had at the time. For lack of a better term, let me just say she came from a less "enlightened" generation. One thing she could do well, however, was cook, and the memories of those scrumptious biscuits with cane syrup, fresh bacon, eggs and grits are permanently embedded in my brain. The smell of fresh bread baking in the oven permeated the atmosphere for a good quarter mile around her home. Breakfast time and dinner time were moments of great conversation and delicious food. It's just that now we know she was doing it all wrong, but like I said, she can't be blamed. Today we know better, so now we look back and pity Grandma for her ignorance. She didn't have Internet. She never heard of Facebook, Instagram or Twitter. The name "Google" had not even been invented during her time. Besides, she didn't have access to all the books we now have at our disposal. Her education was limited, so she didn't read much anyway....in fact, the only reading she did was The Bible, and she read it every day. It was her only source of information, which may explain her lack of enlightenment. As for us, we have an endless supply of books and blogs coming our way, and all of them are telling us how harmful Grandma's lifestyle was. One book will tell us how deadly her bacon and eggs were to those of us she loved so much. Then the next book comes out and tells us that the bacon and eggs weren't so bad, but, since her bread was made from grain, it was harmful food that would shorten our lives. We are so enlightened today we can keep up with how what's healthy changes from day to day. The foods that were vital for survival yesterday are deadly today, and will likely remain so for at least the next month or so before the situation reverses itself again when the next book comes out. Poor Grandma. All she had to guide her was The Bible, so her cooking styles remained constant down through the years. She had to rely on instructions such as "...what I have called clean, don't call unclean." She also had to depend on the words of Jesus when he said "Give us this day our daily bread." I'm sure she understood He was talking about food in general, but He used the term "bread." It was like He was saying "Give us this day our daily harmful food that will shorten our lives." In fact, He even referred to Himself as the "Bread of Life." Just yesterday I started searching for what people are saying on this topic, and I read a blog by an "enlightened" Christian blogger who said that since our bread is prepared different from the way it was then, those terms should not be taken literally. Maybe that lady should tell Jesus He used a poor choice of words. Grandma is NOT gonna tell Him that, and I'm sticking with Grandma. Preston