How many times has this scenario played out at your house? You're relaxing on your couch or in your recliner, and the doorbell rings. You go to the door and find a friend or a neighbor there needing to ask you about something, borrow something, or maybe return something that he had previously borrowed from you. You then say, "Hey, how are you?! Come on in." So far everything is cool and everybody's on the up and up...until you speak again. "Please excuse this messy house. Everything's been so crazy around here lately that we just haven't had time to keep it up the way we like to do." Now if you were to be totally one hundred per cent truthful, you would've had to say it like this, "Please excuse this messy house. We've been pretty busy around here lately, but that's really no excuse, because this is the way our house looks most of the time. In fact, when you rang the doorbell, I wasn't straightening anything; I was kicked back in my recliner, taking it easy."
So...what just happened? Here's my opinion: We just made a subtle attempt to deceive our guests. (I'm using the term "we" because I think we're all guilty of doing the same thing from time to time.) We want them to think that as a general rule, our house is immaculate, although if we knew the truth of the matter, the guests are glad to see the house as it is, because it makes them feel better about their own house, which probably looks just like ours. I think we just revealed one aspect of our own human nature, which brings me to my primary topic for today.
If I'm completely honest, I'll have to admit that the Preston that everyone around me sees is not always the "me" that I see when I look in the mirror. It's almost like I have two identities...the one that's genuine, and the one I present to the public. I've heard it said that the primary difference between reputation and character is this: My reputation is what other people think of me, and my character what I really am. That leads me to ask the questions, "How big a gap is there between my character and my reputation?," and "Is it always a bad thing to present myself in a manner that is not real?"
One of the things I love about small children is they haven't yet learned that art of deception, so if they act like they're happy to see me, they really are. By the same token, if they are not happy to see me, they'll let me know, and that's when the parents start teaching them to "be nice" and act happy, even if they're not. Of course, if I have a bad case of the mulligrubs, it's best that I don't display those feelings to the world. Yet with all of that said, it's most likely that most of us should probably work to bring our reputations and our characters closer together, but how do we do it? Which of the two do we need to change? I've given it some thought and here's my conclusion: Both.
Preston
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXIV
She impressed me when I first met her back in the early nineties, although she was just a little girl at the time. Jansen Leach was so sweet, so beautiful, so intelligent, and so talented. Today she is a grown woman, and I love her even more because I can now place the words "even more" in front of each of the adjectives that I just used to describe her. I asked her to be my guest writer this week because she and her husband, Mike, have an awesome story to tell, and she has so graciously granted my request.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I now introduce to you my dear and long-time friend, Jansen Martinez.
Preston
On February 10, 2010, my husband and I experienced the best and yet suffered the worst day of our lives. The best because we met our firstborn children...the worst because we had this first meeting much too soon. After a week and a half in the hospital, just short of 23 weeks of pregnancy, my body could not fight the preterm labor any longer. At 2:57 p.m., our baby boy was born, and at 2:58 p.m., our baby girl quickly followed. His features, even his hairline, were mostly like those of his father, except for his toes which were undeniably like mine. She, on the other hand, was more like me, with the same round face I had as a baby. All in all, they were perfect...their eyes, noses, mouths and gums, ears, ten fingers, ten toes...even features like their eyebrows and fingernails...all were perfect. The hours we held them seemed like minutes, and the minutes they lived seemed like seconds, but oh what precious hours, minutes, and seconds they were!
In March, Mike and I decided to return to church. We had tried once before, but the experience was simply too much...the sea of people, the awkward glances, the joyful upbeat music. Emotionally neither of us was ready to face any of these things again quite yet, but Jerry Holland, a favorite evangelist/prophet of mine was ministering this particular week. I thought, "Maybe...just maybe...he will have a word from God for us," and I pled to God that this would be true. Sure enough, every word of the sermon seemed to speak directly to Mike and me. When the congregation was invited to pray at the end of the service, I headed to the front of the church, and shortly after, Mike came to my side. As we stood there, feeling desperate and broken, the evangelist made his way to us and, without knowing anything that had transpired over the past month or so, began to prophesy over us. Among other things, he said that whatever my husband and I were going through was not meant to destroy us but was simply a test of faith...God had already ordered things...things that had not yet come to pass but that God had already ordered. The minister reiterated this prophecy over us at the end of another service that same week.
In April, a fellow church member shared a vision with me that God had given him one Sunday morning at the conclusion of service as we all stood at the front of the church. In the vision, I was kneeling down while a little boy was tightly hugging me. Then a second child almost knocked me over as he/she ran into my arms from the opposite side. None of us knew exactly what this vision may mean, but I definitely took it as something from God and stored it in my memory.
With all of these words that had been spoken over and given to Mike and me, I decided to read the book of Job, a man who experienced his own test of faith. I knew that Job lost everything...his money, health, family...everything. In the end, however, Job proved himself faithful, and God restored unto Job all that he had lost. Let me emphasize that in no way do I liken myself to Job or my faith to that of this man. Many days I struggled to have any faith at all...feeling angry, confused, betrayed, failed. Through His grace and mercy, however, God began to strengthen my faith and trust in Him again. My prayer became this: "God, first have Your will in my life and that of my husband. I do not want to pray anything into our lives that is outside of Your will. But if it be Your will, please restore my husband and me as you restored Job." I believed that all Mike and I had experienced was the beginning of a story...a testimony. I refused to believe that the passing of our children was the end.
In March of this year, Rev. Holland, the same evangelist that had prophesied over us just one year ago returned. Again, I prayed that God would give him a word of encouragement and reassurance for Mike and me...and indeed, He did. The evangelist said, "God is giving you a story for His glory. You will be amazed at how wonderful everything will be when it was once so bad." What the evangelist did not know, however, was that in February Mike and I had found out that we are expecting again!
When I read Job last year, I noticed a detail about Job's ordeal that I had never realized in past reading or teaching. When Job lost his children, he lost three daughters and seven sons. In the end, when God restored everything unto Job, He restored unto him exactly that which he had lost...three daughters and seven sons. Remember my prayer..."God, please restore my husband and me as You restored Job." So just as we lost one daughter and one son last year, God has restored unto us one daughter and one son...due this fall! God has heard my prayer and performed nothing short of a miracle! All glory, honor, and praise be to Him!!!
Jansen
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXIII
I really didn't talk to her all that much, but I knew what she was up to. Well, I knew about some of what she was up to, although I'm sure there were some things going on behind closed doors that I may never know about. But I knew enough to know that she was headed for big trouble if she didn't make an about face on the road she was traveling, and I found out that I was not the only one who had the same concerns. In fact there were some who tried their hardest to talk to her to try to persuade her to open her eyes and see the pitfalls that were lying just ahead, all to no avail. And, just as we had predicted, the day of reckoning came, and when it did, it came with a vengeance.
I had been watching from a distance while she was living it up like there was no tomorrow, and through it all, I kept my distance. After all, who was I that I should interfere? It's not like she was my own flesh and blood, and I do often take pride in being a person who only tends to my own business. I could easily have rationalized and tried to justify my inaction by saying that she wouldn't have listened to me anyway, which, I'm sure, is the truth. Yet, there's no denying the fact that I didn't even try. Her parents were my friends, and I could only imagine how much they were hurting as they watched helplessly while their daughter, whom they would have been willing to give their lives for, was throwing her own life to the dogs. In my conversations with them, "she" was a topic that we, sometimes awkwardly, avoided.
Like I said before, when payday came, it came with unbelievable force. And, true to my nature, I observed it all from afar, just like everyone else. Well, not everyone else. Besides her family, there were just a couple people, the same ones who had so diligently tried to steer her back onto the right path before, who jumped up and did whatever they could to help, although it didn't seem like there was much that could be done at that point. The rest of us just sat back and said, "We knew something like this was gonna happen. She brought it all on herself."
Sometimes I would think about her while she was serving her time, and I would wonder if maybe she should move to a different part of the country when she regained her freedom, mainly for two reasons: First of all, I felt that she didn't need to stay in the same area with the people who helped to drag her down, and secondly, maybe she needed to go somewhere where no one knew her and what type of life she had been living. But there were two things that I didn't factor in when I was thinking like that: I didn't consider the fact that people in general have a forgiving nature, and I forgot about those two or three people who had never left her side through the worst and lowest days.
Today she is a free woman, and I'm happy to report that from all appearances, she appears to have gotten herself back on the right track, although, contrary to my unspoken recommendations, she's living in the same place she was living before. And, yes, I've talked to her. It was an interesting conversation. One thing she said to me was, "Preston, my life has been a living hell, but there are a couple of people (she called them by name) who have stuck with me through thick and thin, even though some times I would treat them like dirt. Today, now that I'm back on my feet, I would walk through hell for those ladies." I've seen enough in the last few months to believe that she meant what she said.
I'm not going to say who "she" is, even if you guess correctly. I'm just glad to be able to say that it looks like her story may have a happy ending after all, and there are some really good people who are at least partially responsible, although I'm not one of them. Maybe there's nothing I could've done anyway, but how could I know that if I never even tried? Chances are, I'll have another opportunity to help someone else someday. I hope I do better next time.
Preston
I had been watching from a distance while she was living it up like there was no tomorrow, and through it all, I kept my distance. After all, who was I that I should interfere? It's not like she was my own flesh and blood, and I do often take pride in being a person who only tends to my own business. I could easily have rationalized and tried to justify my inaction by saying that she wouldn't have listened to me anyway, which, I'm sure, is the truth. Yet, there's no denying the fact that I didn't even try. Her parents were my friends, and I could only imagine how much they were hurting as they watched helplessly while their daughter, whom they would have been willing to give their lives for, was throwing her own life to the dogs. In my conversations with them, "she" was a topic that we, sometimes awkwardly, avoided.
Like I said before, when payday came, it came with unbelievable force. And, true to my nature, I observed it all from afar, just like everyone else. Well, not everyone else. Besides her family, there were just a couple people, the same ones who had so diligently tried to steer her back onto the right path before, who jumped up and did whatever they could to help, although it didn't seem like there was much that could be done at that point. The rest of us just sat back and said, "We knew something like this was gonna happen. She brought it all on herself."
Sometimes I would think about her while she was serving her time, and I would wonder if maybe she should move to a different part of the country when she regained her freedom, mainly for two reasons: First of all, I felt that she didn't need to stay in the same area with the people who helped to drag her down, and secondly, maybe she needed to go somewhere where no one knew her and what type of life she had been living. But there were two things that I didn't factor in when I was thinking like that: I didn't consider the fact that people in general have a forgiving nature, and I forgot about those two or three people who had never left her side through the worst and lowest days.
Today she is a free woman, and I'm happy to report that from all appearances, she appears to have gotten herself back on the right track, although, contrary to my unspoken recommendations, she's living in the same place she was living before. And, yes, I've talked to her. It was an interesting conversation. One thing she said to me was, "Preston, my life has been a living hell, but there are a couple of people (she called them by name) who have stuck with me through thick and thin, even though some times I would treat them like dirt. Today, now that I'm back on my feet, I would walk through hell for those ladies." I've seen enough in the last few months to believe that she meant what she said.
I'm not going to say who "she" is, even if you guess correctly. I'm just glad to be able to say that it looks like her story may have a happy ending after all, and there are some really good people who are at least partially responsible, although I'm not one of them. Maybe there's nothing I could've done anyway, but how could I know that if I never even tried? Chances are, I'll have another opportunity to help someone else someday. I hope I do better next time.
Preston
Friday, May 27, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXII
Well, I thought the Lord was supposed to come back this past Saturday. Maybe He did, but if so, there are a lot of people, me included, who are still here that I've always thought will be going when that day comes. I would, however, like to take this opportunity to point out my observations and express some personal opinions on this subject.
First of all, I must say that I didn't really give this last prediction much thought, the reason being that I've always been taught, and I believe, that if a prophet makes a statement that goes against what the Bible says, then I should disregard what he or she said. Let me take it one step further: When that happens, I automatically become skeptical of any other statement or prophecy that comes from that individual. What I'm talking about is a scripture that says that no man knows the day nor the hour when the Lord will return. That's what I believe; consequently, any statement that contradicts that has to be discarded as false. Although there was quite a bit of conversation about that topic on Saturday, I didn't talk to anyone who was taking is seriously. Mainly what I was hearing was a lot of jokes. My favorite came from one of my good friends who said, "Man, I've got a busy day ahead of me. I have to attend two dance recitals, my son's ballgame, the rapture, then another dance recital." Someone told me that the man who made the prediction was a multi-millionaire. If I had known that, I would have certainly asked him for some of his fortune, since he wouldn't be needing it any more.
Here's how I really feel: People who make those kinds of predictions are doing more harm than good. When they say that the rapture will take place on a certain day, then, when it doesn't happen, it causes legitimate preachers to lose credibility in the eyes of the general population. How many of you remember the book that came out a few years ago called "Eighty-eight Reasons Why the Lord is Coming Back in 1988?" That guy said that sometime between September 11 and 13, 1988, the Lord would return. I know one pastor who decided to capitalize on the fear that was generated by that book by having a "Rapture Revival" during that 3-day period. It worked....for a while. He filled his church, but as soon as everyone figured out that the book must have been a hoax, all those people who came rushing into the church at that last minute, started leaving almost as fast as they came, and by the end of October, that church was back down to the faithful few who had always been there. Oh, and I can't neglect mentioning the Six Day War in 1967. I don't think I ever saw people panic the way they did then, especially when the preachers were saying that when the Israeli Army crossed a certain landmark, it would be all over. Well, they crossed that line and nothing happened.
Now for my prediction: The Lord is coming back on July 22, 2014 at 3:17 AM Jerusalem time, if not before. Notice, I didn't say that's when the rapture is taking place. Let me explain it this way: All my life, I've heard people say, "I want to be ready any time the Lord comes or calls." Every second of every day, someone dies somewhere in this world, and July 22, 2014 at 3:17 AM Jerusalem time will be no exception. So, at that moment, the Lord will come for someone, just like He will at any other moment you can mention. I think that's where our focus should be. Just a couple weeks ago, a young man was killed in a motorcycle accident less than a half mile from my house. As far as he was concerned, that's when the Lord came back, at least for him. The rapture will happen. That's a certainty, and we all need to be reminded about it, but what we need to focus on is how to get saved, how to stay saved, and how to live a successful, holy Christian life. If we take care of that, then it won't matter so much when the end of the world takes place.
To sum it up, I guess there will always be people making all kinds of predictions as to the end of time, and when it will occur. I heard of one man who named a particular day in 2012 when it's going to happen, and I heard another who said it's still thousands of years away. But if I take care of things in my own life the way I'm supposed to do, they can talk all they want to, and I'll be okay either way. That's all that matters.
Preston
First of all, I must say that I didn't really give this last prediction much thought, the reason being that I've always been taught, and I believe, that if a prophet makes a statement that goes against what the Bible says, then I should disregard what he or she said. Let me take it one step further: When that happens, I automatically become skeptical of any other statement or prophecy that comes from that individual. What I'm talking about is a scripture that says that no man knows the day nor the hour when the Lord will return. That's what I believe; consequently, any statement that contradicts that has to be discarded as false. Although there was quite a bit of conversation about that topic on Saturday, I didn't talk to anyone who was taking is seriously. Mainly what I was hearing was a lot of jokes. My favorite came from one of my good friends who said, "Man, I've got a busy day ahead of me. I have to attend two dance recitals, my son's ballgame, the rapture, then another dance recital." Someone told me that the man who made the prediction was a multi-millionaire. If I had known that, I would have certainly asked him for some of his fortune, since he wouldn't be needing it any more.
Here's how I really feel: People who make those kinds of predictions are doing more harm than good. When they say that the rapture will take place on a certain day, then, when it doesn't happen, it causes legitimate preachers to lose credibility in the eyes of the general population. How many of you remember the book that came out a few years ago called "Eighty-eight Reasons Why the Lord is Coming Back in 1988?" That guy said that sometime between September 11 and 13, 1988, the Lord would return. I know one pastor who decided to capitalize on the fear that was generated by that book by having a "Rapture Revival" during that 3-day period. It worked....for a while. He filled his church, but as soon as everyone figured out that the book must have been a hoax, all those people who came rushing into the church at that last minute, started leaving almost as fast as they came, and by the end of October, that church was back down to the faithful few who had always been there. Oh, and I can't neglect mentioning the Six Day War in 1967. I don't think I ever saw people panic the way they did then, especially when the preachers were saying that when the Israeli Army crossed a certain landmark, it would be all over. Well, they crossed that line and nothing happened.
Now for my prediction: The Lord is coming back on July 22, 2014 at 3:17 AM Jerusalem time, if not before. Notice, I didn't say that's when the rapture is taking place. Let me explain it this way: All my life, I've heard people say, "I want to be ready any time the Lord comes or calls." Every second of every day, someone dies somewhere in this world, and July 22, 2014 at 3:17 AM Jerusalem time will be no exception. So, at that moment, the Lord will come for someone, just like He will at any other moment you can mention. I think that's where our focus should be. Just a couple weeks ago, a young man was killed in a motorcycle accident less than a half mile from my house. As far as he was concerned, that's when the Lord came back, at least for him. The rapture will happen. That's a certainty, and we all need to be reminded about it, but what we need to focus on is how to get saved, how to stay saved, and how to live a successful, holy Christian life. If we take care of that, then it won't matter so much when the end of the world takes place.
To sum it up, I guess there will always be people making all kinds of predictions as to the end of time, and when it will occur. I heard of one man who named a particular day in 2012 when it's going to happen, and I heard another who said it's still thousands of years away. But if I take care of things in my own life the way I'm supposed to do, they can talk all they want to, and I'll be okay either way. That's all that matters.
Preston
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXI
He told you, before he ever started speaking, that what he was about to say was false; yet you sat there and got all worked up over practically every word he said. You have to admit that you built up such a genuine hatred for Anthony and Serena because of all the things he told you they had said and done that you wanted to see them suffer. Nor can you deny that by the time he was done, you were sitting there crying like a baby. So how can you explain why you reacted the way you did, when you knew all along that nothing he was saying was the truth? In essence, he lied to you right after he told you that he was going to lie to you, and yet you allowed yourself to become so vulnerable as to let him take complete control of your emotions and turn them inside out. Do you feel any embarrassment at all about being so gullible that you would willingly hand him your mind and let him play with it like it was a child's toy? I hope you can explain it, because I certainly can't.
Now, please don't misunderstand my motives for bringing this up. It's not my intention to be critical. In fact, I have absolutely no right to criticize you for the simple reason that I'm guilty of the same identical offenses that you are. Yes, I admit, he had me hating Anthony and Serena also; and I rejoiced just like you did when all their evil schemes started to backfire. Yes, and just like you, I wanted someone to hurt them, knowing all the while that in actual reality, they didn't even exist. So, if you're embarrassed, then I should be too, but I'm not, and I really don't believe that you are either. And the strange thing about it is there are millions of other people who fell for his lies just like we did, even though they, too, knew he was not being truthful.
Now to those of you who are wondering what I am talking about and who I'm talking to: Do you feel that a person would have to be an idiot to get all worked up over something that we know never happened? Well, let me ask you this: Have you ever read a novel by Tom Clancy, John Grisham, Nicholas Sparks, Louis L'Amour, or any of the other well know authors? When you see the word "novel" or the word "fiction," that is telling you that the story you're about to read is false...it never happened. Maybe you're not a reader. Well, I'll bet you've watched movies where you knew from the beginning that the entire episode was a fabrication, yet you became so engrossed in the story that at times your heart rate would jump up a few beats per minute. So, you see, you're just as guilty as the rest of us.
How does that work? How is it that we allow ourselves to be so taken in by stories that we know are nothing more than events that are only taking place within someone else's imagination? It does make for some good entertainment, but what if some individual would try to manipulate or control me by playing on my emotions or toying with my mind? Would I be vulnerable? I would like to think not, but what does the evidence show? Here's what I think: It's okay for us to allow ourselves to take short breaks from reality as long as we are able to make the transformation back to the real world when we've finished the book or movie. The danger is when the difference becomes blurred in our minds. As for me, I do enjoy an occasional novel or movie, but I prefer sticking with non-fiction and documentaries...of course I've never claimed to be normal.
Preston
Now, please don't misunderstand my motives for bringing this up. It's not my intention to be critical. In fact, I have absolutely no right to criticize you for the simple reason that I'm guilty of the same identical offenses that you are. Yes, I admit, he had me hating Anthony and Serena also; and I rejoiced just like you did when all their evil schemes started to backfire. Yes, and just like you, I wanted someone to hurt them, knowing all the while that in actual reality, they didn't even exist. So, if you're embarrassed, then I should be too, but I'm not, and I really don't believe that you are either. And the strange thing about it is there are millions of other people who fell for his lies just like we did, even though they, too, knew he was not being truthful.
Now to those of you who are wondering what I am talking about and who I'm talking to: Do you feel that a person would have to be an idiot to get all worked up over something that we know never happened? Well, let me ask you this: Have you ever read a novel by Tom Clancy, John Grisham, Nicholas Sparks, Louis L'Amour, or any of the other well know authors? When you see the word "novel" or the word "fiction," that is telling you that the story you're about to read is false...it never happened. Maybe you're not a reader. Well, I'll bet you've watched movies where you knew from the beginning that the entire episode was a fabrication, yet you became so engrossed in the story that at times your heart rate would jump up a few beats per minute. So, you see, you're just as guilty as the rest of us.
How does that work? How is it that we allow ourselves to be so taken in by stories that we know are nothing more than events that are only taking place within someone else's imagination? It does make for some good entertainment, but what if some individual would try to manipulate or control me by playing on my emotions or toying with my mind? Would I be vulnerable? I would like to think not, but what does the evidence show? Here's what I think: It's okay for us to allow ourselves to take short breaks from reality as long as we are able to make the transformation back to the real world when we've finished the book or movie. The danger is when the difference becomes blurred in our minds. As for me, I do enjoy an occasional novel or movie, but I prefer sticking with non-fiction and documentaries...of course I've never claimed to be normal.
Preston
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXX
I was a bad kid! Bad! Really bad! I wasn't a thief or anything like that, although I knew some kids who were. I didn't drink or do drugs and I was at church every time the doors were opened, but still, I was bad. I actually had some classmates who were bullies, although I can't recall ever being a bully myself. There were even some kids at my school and my church who would get smart with their teachers, causing disruptions in the classes, and though I may have been guilty of that from time to time, it would not be accurate to say that I was a smart-mouth child. I looked up to practically every adult I knew and showed respect to all of them just like my mom and dad taught me to do. Yet, considering everything I just told you, my behavior can best be summed up with one simple word: "Bad." Just like Leroy Brown.
By now you're probably beginning to wonder just what it was that I did that would earn me such an infamous title, and the truth is, I don't really know. All I know is, I was bad. And what's odd about this whole thing is the fact that I didn't know just how bad I was until just recently. It's like it just dawned on me all of a sudden, and I instantly developed a whole new perspective on my entire childhood. Just a few days ago, I was having a conversation with a group of friends, and one of them, Deena Ferguson, made a statement that shed a whole new light on the whole situation. Up until just a couple weeks ago, if you would have asked me what kind of kid I was when I was growing up, I would've said "Good." Now I know better.
If there were ever two people that I totally trusted to always do what was in my best interest, it would have to be my parents. Their love for me was unconditional. Not even for one-sixteenth of a second throughout my entire lifetime have I ever questioned their undying love for me. They taught me that I could be anything I wanted to be, they praised me when I did good, and they punished me when I did evil. That brings me to my point. My entire childhood was one long period of extreme, over-the-top punishment. I don't know if a parent could get away with such cruelty in today's environment...not to the extent that I had to endure it. In essence, what Deena was talking about that made me see the light was how kids are punished in our current society. I think what has happened is that parents have learned about how I was punished, and they have followed suit, only to a much lesser degree. Some of the more harsh examples of what I'm talking about include such penalties as taking away their kids' cell phones for two weeks, confiscating their computers for sometimes as long as a month, unplugging the TV's in their rooms, etc. I just hope the government doesn't find out about some of these disciplinary measures, because there is an offense that is known as "Cruel and Unusual Punishment," and I'm afraid some parents may be pushing the limits on these harsh techniques.
What has made me realize that I was such a bad kid is I know Mom and Dad would not have punished me when I had done nothing to deserve it. The happy part of this story is that I somehow survived it all with no apparent ill effects. (If you are squeamish, you may not want to continue reading this paragraph, and please do not read aloud if you have small children in the room.) Here was my punishment: I was made to endure an ENTIRE CHILDHOOD with no cell phone, no computer, no television in my room, and no X-Box. I know it sounds unbelievable, but it's true, I promise. Once this story is authenticated, I fully expect it to be condensed and published in the "Drama in Real Life" section of "Reader's Digest."
And oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention one other method of correction that was placed on top of all the things I've already mentioned. On my really, really bad days, when I committed a crime like lying to my parents, etc., my dad had discovered an additional form of chastisement that involved a piece of leather, but we'll save that discussion for another day.
Preston
By now you're probably beginning to wonder just what it was that I did that would earn me such an infamous title, and the truth is, I don't really know. All I know is, I was bad. And what's odd about this whole thing is the fact that I didn't know just how bad I was until just recently. It's like it just dawned on me all of a sudden, and I instantly developed a whole new perspective on my entire childhood. Just a few days ago, I was having a conversation with a group of friends, and one of them, Deena Ferguson, made a statement that shed a whole new light on the whole situation. Up until just a couple weeks ago, if you would have asked me what kind of kid I was when I was growing up, I would've said "Good." Now I know better.
If there were ever two people that I totally trusted to always do what was in my best interest, it would have to be my parents. Their love for me was unconditional. Not even for one-sixteenth of a second throughout my entire lifetime have I ever questioned their undying love for me. They taught me that I could be anything I wanted to be, they praised me when I did good, and they punished me when I did evil. That brings me to my point. My entire childhood was one long period of extreme, over-the-top punishment. I don't know if a parent could get away with such cruelty in today's environment...not to the extent that I had to endure it. In essence, what Deena was talking about that made me see the light was how kids are punished in our current society. I think what has happened is that parents have learned about how I was punished, and they have followed suit, only to a much lesser degree. Some of the more harsh examples of what I'm talking about include such penalties as taking away their kids' cell phones for two weeks, confiscating their computers for sometimes as long as a month, unplugging the TV's in their rooms, etc. I just hope the government doesn't find out about some of these disciplinary measures, because there is an offense that is known as "Cruel and Unusual Punishment," and I'm afraid some parents may be pushing the limits on these harsh techniques.
What has made me realize that I was such a bad kid is I know Mom and Dad would not have punished me when I had done nothing to deserve it. The happy part of this story is that I somehow survived it all with no apparent ill effects. (If you are squeamish, you may not want to continue reading this paragraph, and please do not read aloud if you have small children in the room.) Here was my punishment: I was made to endure an ENTIRE CHILDHOOD with no cell phone, no computer, no television in my room, and no X-Box. I know it sounds unbelievable, but it's true, I promise. Once this story is authenticated, I fully expect it to be condensed and published in the "Drama in Real Life" section of "Reader's Digest."
And oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention one other method of correction that was placed on top of all the things I've already mentioned. On my really, really bad days, when I committed a crime like lying to my parents, etc., my dad had discovered an additional form of chastisement that involved a piece of leather, but we'll save that discussion for another day.
Preston
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXIX
This is not a story about running....well, not really, but in a way it is....kinda. What I wanted to tell you is the story of two beautiful young women, both of whom I know quite well, and they also happen to be runners. In fact, I used to run with both of them, and I've had some great conversation with each one during some of our long pre-dawn runs. I actually don't know if the two of them have ever met, but they do have some things in common, and that's what I want to talk about now. One of the phrases in my previous statement is "I USED to run with both of them," which would indicate that I don't run with them any more. I guess it's true in one sense, and false in another, but I'll explain what that means later. Their names are Autumn and Valerie. One of them is a good friend and the other is my daughter. Back in the days when I ran with them, they were both living in the Monroe/West Monroe area, but each one ended up moving out of state. Autumn and her husband, Brian, moved to Conway, AR, and Valerie and her husband, JC, moved to Chattanooga, TN. The primary commonality between Conway and Chattanooga is the fact that both cities are extremely hilly.
Autumn and Brian have recently moved back to our area, so I'm now able to see her quite frequently now, and Valerie is family, so we see her on a fairly regular basis as well. One of the main things that struck me about Autumn and Valerie, and why I'm making this story about both of them, is how they changed in the same way after moving to new cities. They are so much stronger now than they were before they moved away. I'm certain that there are a number of factors that have contributed to their increased strength, but I have to believe that the hilly terrain can be credited for much of the difference.
I can sum up how I feel about hills in just one little three word statement: "I hate them." But should I? My friend, Greg Bailey, posted a quote on his facebook page a few days ago that said, "I've never met a hill that hasn't made me stronger." Climbing hills is not fun, but I need to face the fact that if I'm going to ever be the kind of person I want to be, I'm going to have to accept the fact there are going to be some challenging times where I will have to prove that I have what it takes to overcome. It would be nice if I could look ahead to times in my life when all the challenges will finally be behind me, and I guess I will eventually get there, but when I reach that time "in" my life, it will mean that the time "of" my life is over. When weight lifters achieve a level of strength to where the weights are not so hard to lift, if they want to become stronger, they will have to add more weights to the bar and start the pain and struggle all over again. If I'm not experiencing some struggles, that means that my level of strength has become stagnant. I have some friends who are going through some extremely trying times right now, and really all I can do for them is remind them that they will be stronger individuals when all of this is over. It's just easier to tell that to someone else than it is to say it to myself, so I may need for you to remind me about this when it's me that's facing the challenge.
So when I tell you that you're headed for some tough hills, please don't accuse me of being a pessimist, but thank me for my optimistic attitude, because I'm simply informing you that you are about to become stronger. If we set high enough goals for ourselves, we know that they can't be achieved without some serious struggles, and the hills that we have to climb are just parts of the path that leads us there. You and I both have some difficult challenges ahead, so it's important for us to keep in mind what kind of people they're helping us become. Who knows, we may even get to the point to where instead of dreading the hills, we'll learn to embrace them.
It's not totally false for me to say that I still run with Autumn and Valerie, because I still try. It's just that they're so much faster than me and I can't keep up with them. But, you see, they've had to conquer more tough hills than I have.
Preston
Autumn and Brian have recently moved back to our area, so I'm now able to see her quite frequently now, and Valerie is family, so we see her on a fairly regular basis as well. One of the main things that struck me about Autumn and Valerie, and why I'm making this story about both of them, is how they changed in the same way after moving to new cities. They are so much stronger now than they were before they moved away. I'm certain that there are a number of factors that have contributed to their increased strength, but I have to believe that the hilly terrain can be credited for much of the difference.
I can sum up how I feel about hills in just one little three word statement: "I hate them." But should I? My friend, Greg Bailey, posted a quote on his facebook page a few days ago that said, "I've never met a hill that hasn't made me stronger." Climbing hills is not fun, but I need to face the fact that if I'm going to ever be the kind of person I want to be, I'm going to have to accept the fact there are going to be some challenging times where I will have to prove that I have what it takes to overcome. It would be nice if I could look ahead to times in my life when all the challenges will finally be behind me, and I guess I will eventually get there, but when I reach that time "in" my life, it will mean that the time "of" my life is over. When weight lifters achieve a level of strength to where the weights are not so hard to lift, if they want to become stronger, they will have to add more weights to the bar and start the pain and struggle all over again. If I'm not experiencing some struggles, that means that my level of strength has become stagnant. I have some friends who are going through some extremely trying times right now, and really all I can do for them is remind them that they will be stronger individuals when all of this is over. It's just easier to tell that to someone else than it is to say it to myself, so I may need for you to remind me about this when it's me that's facing the challenge.
So when I tell you that you're headed for some tough hills, please don't accuse me of being a pessimist, but thank me for my optimistic attitude, because I'm simply informing you that you are about to become stronger. If we set high enough goals for ourselves, we know that they can't be achieved without some serious struggles, and the hills that we have to climb are just parts of the path that leads us there. You and I both have some difficult challenges ahead, so it's important for us to keep in mind what kind of people they're helping us become. Who knows, we may even get to the point to where instead of dreading the hills, we'll learn to embrace them.
It's not totally false for me to say that I still run with Autumn and Valerie, because I still try. It's just that they're so much faster than me and I can't keep up with them. But, you see, they've had to conquer more tough hills than I have.
Preston
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