Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDLXXXVI

One of my close friends just cut me down to size. Well, sort of. I needed it though. The odd thing about it is, that was not the intention, and the full knowledge of its effect on me will only be made clear to her when she reads this article. Here's how it happened: My conversations with myself take place in front of the mirror. On my darkest days, I go to the mirror. When I'm on the mountain top, I go to the mirror. I don't talk out loud, but I have silent conversations with the guy looking back at me. Well, here lately, things have been going pretty good for me...business has been good, my family seems to be in a healthy state, Angie and I have become happily involved in our church, and we have an abundance of good friends. Things, in fact, have been going so well, it called for a trip to the mirror for a happy face to face chat with that awesome guy looking back. I said, "Well, we've finally got things going our way, don't we. I guess it just goes to prove you're a pretty smart guy after all. I really think it's gonna stay this way this time. Yep, if you were the bragging type, you could back up your words now." Then came that text. When I first read it, my head swelled just a little bit more. I took it the way it was intended, as a statement of honor. These are not the exact words, but the general message was, "I've been wanting and looking for a strong spiritual influence in my life, and I believe you're filling that role." That's it. That's all it was. So I headed back to the mirror to gloat just a little more, but when I got there, the guy looking back was not the same person I had seen on my previous visit. The man I saw this time was flawed. His imperfections were prominently displayed, and I saw him as a creature prone to making mistakes. All the intelligence that was so evident just a few hours earlier had been replaced with the reality of just how ignorant and "not ready for prime time" he really is. I turned and stepped away thinking, "Me? A spiritual role model? There must be some mistake. My friend just needs to go to the Bible for that spiritual influence." You see, the Bible is full of good examples of quality spiritual people. Peter, for instance. Of course, he was a hot headed, fly off the handle kind of guy, who even turned his back on his best friend when the situation became uncomfortable. Okay, what about Paul? Oh yeah, he did get into some serious disputes with some of his colleagues. Then what about Moses? Well, some people believe he had a speech impediment, and I know he threw a few temper tantrums. Maybe we could look at David. Oh yeah, I had forgotten that he had an affair with another man's wife, and then arranged to have her husband killed. Hmmmm. Some of those guys are worse than me. Okay, I get the message. As strongly as I feel about not wanting to ever be a bad influence or give faulty advice to my friend, I have to accept the fact that if someone wants a spiritual mentor, they will have to pick an imperfect person, because that's all there is to choose from. After all, who would want to seek advice about how to deal with problems, weaknesses, and errors in judgment from someone who never had any and didn't have a track record of overcoming them? I really believe this awesome responsibility is making me a better person. I'm not sure I qualify, but I pray I can measure up. Me? A strong spiritual influence? I've never really thought of myself like that before. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDLXXXIX

A young man and a young woman sit together, gazing into each other's eyes, whispering softly, completely oblivious to the world around them; and suddenly for the first time, he utters those three special words, "I love you." She is thrilled and responds with, "I love you too." At that same time, in another part of the country, a young woman recites the same three words as she closes a phone conversation with her dad, "I love you." He answers with, "I love you too, Sweetheart." In a church in yet another part of the country, a forty-something year old woman sits on a pew, solemnly waiting for her dad's funeral to begin, when her husband points to the door, telling her their long-time friends have just entered. They are greeted with long, tearful hugs, and those three magic words, "I love you." And then, down in the southern part of the country, there's me, where my wife has just made a fresh chocolate pie. With coffee in my left hand and a fork in my right, I look longingly at my slice, and with tears welling in my eyes, I whisper, "I love you." These examples exemplify one of the shortcomings of the English language: One little word, used four different ways, all with similar, yet different meanings. The romantic meaning in the first illustration, is not the same as the parental love in the second example, while both of these are unlike the analogies in the love between friends and the love I have for my favorite dessert. Since we have to use the same phrase for all four of those scenarios, we just have to hope the person to whom we direct those words understands the context that is intended. Today, I would like to zero in on the third example....the love between friends. It's easy for me to tell my wife I love her, and it just comes natural for me to express my love for my kids. I have no problem informing anyone of my love for chocolate pie, bread pudding, carrot cake, etc., etc. Sometimes, however, saying "I love you" to a friend is a little more awkward, and I think it's because I don't want anyone mistaking the way I mean it. Even still, I'm of the opinion we should tell our friends how we feel about them more often than we do. Therefore, please allow me to set the record straight: The meaning of the phrase in my first illustration is reserved for my wife alone. If you're not a part of my family, or if you're not food, examples two and four do not apply to you. But please also understand that if you're a friend and you hear those words from me, I consider you to be a special part of my life. I will not throw those words around lightly. If ever there was a time for us to let people know how much they mean to us, it's today. I have friends who have expressed to me how much I mean to them, and I have to tell you, that picks me up like nothing else can. If you're like me, you need to hear that sometimes. For some reason, in our society and culture, it's fairly easy for a woman to tell another woman how much she loves her, but we men struggle with expressing those feelings to another man. I also believe it's a little more difficult for any of us to express our feelings to members of the opposite sex due to the fear of the words being misunderstood. As one who has experienced the elation of being told how much I'm appreciated, I'm working on getting better at expressing my feelings to others. Why don't we commit to telling someone how we feel today. So, my friend, now that you've read today's blog, if you hear me tell you "I love you," you know I don't mean it in a romantic sense, and unless you smell like cinnamon rolls, I know you're not food. And if I tell you, I'll mean it. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CDLXXXIII

It was a twice in a lifetime event for me: My child, my own flesh and blood, whom I raised from birth to adulthood, reached that inevitable point where it's time to leave the nest. I'll never forget when that day came for my firstborn. She was moving out of town, and we loaded her belongings into her car and my van, then headed out. Her fifteen year old brother went along for the ride and to help with the moving. We took two cars down and came back in one. Three people went down there, and only two came back. I was a big boy, all calm and collected, as my son and I walked out of her apartment, but I promise you, if someone would've said "boo" to me, I think I would've sobbed. It was a quiet ride home. Had I been alone, I would have cried. Just a few short years later, I happened to be working out of town when that day came for my son, and my wife was helping him pack his things to move out when he said, "Mom, you don't want me to go, do you?" She just said, "No," as she was choking back tears. On the day I'm writing this, I have just come home from a funeral. My good friend, Elizabeth, lost her mom, and during the service, there was a song that Elizabeth dedicated to her mother, and it really hits home with me. It is the Jason Crabb song that says, "Sometimes I hurt, and sometimes I cry." In that song, he talks about how he's one of these guys who seems to have everything going his way, yet there are times when he endures heartache, and when no one else is around, he cries. I wouldn't say this, or even think it, for that matter, if I hadn't heard it so many times, but a number of people have told Angie and me that they look at us a couple who has it all together. They tell us we both have good jobs, we've raised two great kids who are now successful adults, we have good heads on our shoulders, and life is basically going our way. Well, maybe so, but I was probably giving that same impression the day I drove away, leaving my daughter alone in her apartment, more than three hours away, for the first time. I can promise you, though, I was hurting at that moment. You wouldn't have known it by looking at me, however. I have another friend who has recently gone through a divorce, and every time I see her, she has a smile on her face. As a friend who knows some of her story, I see telltale signs that there's pain inside, but to a stranger, she appears to be living a happy, carefree life. An hour or so ago, I sent Elizabeth a text, telling her what a beautiful service it was, and how much I loved that song. Her response was, "...that song touches me, and matches me." Well, Elizabeth, my friend, I feel the same way, because "I try to look strong, as the whole world looks on, but sometimes, alone, I cry." I dare say every person reading my thoughts today can identify with those lyrics. The trouble is, we usually can't tell by looking, so how do we know who needs to be treated with gentleness? How about every person we meet! Being treated with gentle kindness never hurt anyone. Preston