How in the world are we supposed to make these kinds of decisions? Choosing our leaders is among our most important responsibilities, and should not be done on a whim. To some extent, it will always be a guessing game, but if we do our homework and properly educate ourselves, it will take most of the guesswork out of the equation. The candidates who are running for office will, without a doubt, try to play on your emotions, but the word "emotion" should never be a part of this decision making process. An older gentleman gave me some advice many years ago when I was in the process of choosing between two different paths that had life-changing implications, and I've stored it in my memory and used it time and time again when I was faced with life's most important choices: "Look as far down the road into the future as you can see, and ask yourself this question: 'How will the decision I make today affect me when I get down there?'"
Do you keep up with what's going on in our country and around the world? If not, how do expect to know how to choose your next leaders? What are the primary issues of the day? Do you keep up with the news enough to have an opinion on current events? Ladies and gentlemen, it's time that we all get ourselves up to date on the issues facing our nation, because if we don't, we could end up making decisions that would adversely affect generations to come. Who is Harry Reid? Who is Tim Geithner? What about John Boehner? Have you ever heard of Rick Perry? Can you name the Secretary of State? Can decisions made by the Attorney General affect you? What significance do the words "Fast and Furious" have to us a nation? Should we close Gitmo? Why? Do you even know what I'm talking about? Do you have any idea which news media outlets can and cannot be trusted to give you unbiased, fact-based reporting? Can you distinguish between a politician or pundit who is stating honest facts and the ones who are simply giving you their party's talking points or political spin?
Every question I just asked, I know how to answer; but then, like I've told you before, I'm a news junkie. I know who all those people are and what they stand for, and I have an opinion on "Gitmo" and "Fast and Furious." I admit that the fact that I'm in my car many hours each week, listening to the news on satellite radio, gives me an advantage on keeping up with current events, but even with the knowledge I've acquired, I will still have to do some digging to make sure I'm voting for the candidates who best fit my philosophy. That leads me to ask how can a person have any idea how to vote when they don't keep up with what's going on in our world. Those are the people who vote based on emotion and how good looking the candidates are, and believe me, the candidates know how many of those people are out there, and they'll be playing up for their votes, saying what needs to be said for that particular audience. I find that scary.
Next year is an election year, so if you hurry, you still have time to educate yourself enough to make a proper decision...but you must act quickly. There's a lot to be learned in a short amount of time, but it can be done. One thing I've learned is that just because a person has the same basic opinions as I do, it doesn't mean that he or she would be a good leader. What qualities should we look for in choosing a leader, besides sharing our philosophy? I have a little checklist that I like to use:
Do they have the courage to express their honest views, even to a hostile audience?
What does this person's background say about what type of leader he or she will be?
When this person expresses their faith, is it for real, or for political purposes?
Does this person's record coincide with the views they express during the campaign?
How will my children and grandchildren be affected if this person is elected?
Can this person admit when he or she is wrong?
And there's little statement that should go at the bottom of the page: Never follow leaders who have not shown that they can follow their own leaders.
Preston
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXXI
It was a day that changed my life. Wait...let me rephrase that....it was a moment that changed my life. I don't remember exactly where I was when that moment happened, but I do remember that it was early September,1986, and I was driving my car, a white 1984 Buick Century. Just a couple weeks before, I had experienced for the first time that horrible feeling that almost every human alive has either already faced or will have to face...the death of a parent. In this instance, I had lost my dad, and as I drove down the highway that day trying so hard to erase the most recent memories of him as he lay in bed during those final days of life, I was hoping that my recollections of him would be of the happy times we had shared so many times, when he was in good health. Then the thought occurred to me that I was what I was, I believed the way I did, because that's what he believed. That's when that moment came, and it was nothing more than a thought, but it hit me like a bolt of lightning: "That's not good enough!" I could not survive on my own, living off of my dad's experiences or set of values. I had to have my own personal convictions, my own foundation to stand on, and it had to be solid and stable enough to sustain me during the hard times. His influence has always been, and always will be, a powerful force in my life, but I knew the days of being able to fall back on Daddy's standards were over. Beginning that day, I started studying, digging, thinking, praying, and developing my own belief system...something I could stand on.
It would be inaccurate to say that when that moment came, and my attitude made that sudden shift, that I discarded everything my dad had taught me. In fact, the exact opposite is true: I took the tools and materials he had provided for me, and used them to build my foundation. If someone would ask me to describe in one word what was the most important tool he had left me, I would have to say it is "stability." That's a trait that I want to always hold on to with a death grip, even as I pass it on down to my offspring, so that when the storms are raging and the waves come crashing in, we don't falter or waiver....we just hold steady and stay the course. That doesn't mean that if I ever discover I've made a wrong turn that I'm too stubborn to make a necessary correction. What it means is that I set my eyes on the goal, and let nothing distract me from that focus.
I guess what's got my mind going this direction is the fact that I have recently come in contact with some people who can best be compared to water in a pan. You tilt the pan one way, and they go rushing to one side. Then you shift the pan the other direction, and there they go again. They're here today and gone tomorrow. They're undependable, unpredictable, and the only thing consistent about them is that they're inconsistent. Probably the best way to describe them is that they're a perfect example of what I do not want to become. And the most troubling fact of all is they don't even realize they're that way....if fact, I feel certain that they would argue that they're the exact opposite. Can you think of someone who fits that description?
Just this past week I read a statement that really grabbed my attention: "People who are not strong in their beliefs will most likely adopt the viewpoint of the bully." I want to be the type person who can tell you what I believe and why I believe it, whether the topic be on religion, politics, morality, ethics, or life in general. And if you're going to convince me otherwise, you'd better come armed with some solid facts that you can prove beyond a doubt, or you're just wasting your time. Because, you see, I'm armed with a trait that gives me the courage to set my sails on a bold, steady course, and I don't aim to change. That trait is called "stability." And it all goes back to that day in 1986 when I realized that I had to have my own set of values and beliefs, and I went immediately to work developing them. Here's the neat part: Even though this task of constructing my own solid foundation is a perpetual process, when I take the time to stand back and take a look at it, it looks almost just like my dad's.
Preston
It would be inaccurate to say that when that moment came, and my attitude made that sudden shift, that I discarded everything my dad had taught me. In fact, the exact opposite is true: I took the tools and materials he had provided for me, and used them to build my foundation. If someone would ask me to describe in one word what was the most important tool he had left me, I would have to say it is "stability." That's a trait that I want to always hold on to with a death grip, even as I pass it on down to my offspring, so that when the storms are raging and the waves come crashing in, we don't falter or waiver....we just hold steady and stay the course. That doesn't mean that if I ever discover I've made a wrong turn that I'm too stubborn to make a necessary correction. What it means is that I set my eyes on the goal, and let nothing distract me from that focus.
I guess what's got my mind going this direction is the fact that I have recently come in contact with some people who can best be compared to water in a pan. You tilt the pan one way, and they go rushing to one side. Then you shift the pan the other direction, and there they go again. They're here today and gone tomorrow. They're undependable, unpredictable, and the only thing consistent about them is that they're inconsistent. Probably the best way to describe them is that they're a perfect example of what I do not want to become. And the most troubling fact of all is they don't even realize they're that way....if fact, I feel certain that they would argue that they're the exact opposite. Can you think of someone who fits that description?
Just this past week I read a statement that really grabbed my attention: "People who are not strong in their beliefs will most likely adopt the viewpoint of the bully." I want to be the type person who can tell you what I believe and why I believe it, whether the topic be on religion, politics, morality, ethics, or life in general. And if you're going to convince me otherwise, you'd better come armed with some solid facts that you can prove beyond a doubt, or you're just wasting your time. Because, you see, I'm armed with a trait that gives me the courage to set my sails on a bold, steady course, and I don't aim to change. That trait is called "stability." And it all goes back to that day in 1986 when I realized that I had to have my own set of values and beliefs, and I went immediately to work developing them. Here's the neat part: Even though this task of constructing my own solid foundation is a perpetual process, when I take the time to stand back and take a look at it, it looks almost just like my dad's.
Preston
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXX
When a baby is born into an English-speaking home, he will learn to make sounds that babies born in other parts of the world will never learn to make. By the same token, those born in those parts of the world can make sounds that you and I will never have the ability to make. Even if we learn to speak their language, we will be unable to mimic the exact sounds that come so easily to those who learn those languages as small children. Here's the reason: When we are born, our tongues and vocal cords have the potential to make many different sounds, many of which are never needed in speaking certain languages, but when we never use our organs for that purpose, the muscles needed to make those sounds never develop and become useless.
That information is something I picked up in one of my social studies classes in college, and I stored it somewhere way back in one of the tiny crevices of my memory; then last week I was thinking about a totally different topic, and that long hidden piece of knowledge came floating back up to the surface. What was on my mind was how I used to take pride in just how many phone numbers I had stored in my memory bank, and now that smart phones have completely taken over our methods of communication, I don't even know my own kids' phone numbers. There's no longer a need to memorize phone numbers...our phones do it for us. Then my mind went another direction: I've been singing in church since I was knee high to a grasshopper, and at one point in my life, there is no telling how many songs I knew by heart...every word. When we learned a praise chorus or a choir song, we learned it....completely. We didn't look at a book or a cheat sheet, but now that all the words are posted on a screen for everyone to see, I don't have to memorize a song any more. We have two big screens for the congregation to see, and then there's one on the back wall that's there strictly for the singers.
Now don't get me wrong--I'm not complaining. I love the new technology, but if they were to suddenly take away the big screens and the mobile phones, it would not be a problem for me to go back to the way we used to do it, because I developed that part of my brain when I was a little boy. Here's my concern: Will the children born today develop the ability to memorize phone numbers, songs, etc. the way I did? If technology does all that for them, will that be a part of their brain that never develops and ends up becoming useless? I don't know, but I do wonder about it. Every generation gains more knowledge than all the ones before, and I have no doubt that it will continue to be that way. I know there will be so much for them to store in their memory, but I'm not sure that "remembering" and "memorizing" are the same things, and I'm wondering if the "memorizing" part of their brains may never develop the way mine did.
I can still recall the words to more of the old songs than I care to admit, but when we're singing the newer songs, which I love, incidentally, I still have to look at the words. At first I just attributed it to old age, but now that I think about it, I believe it's because I never had to memorize the new ones. One other point: I can't hit the high notes like I used to either, but I still attribute that to old age. All I need now is a new idea that debunks that theory as well.
Preston
That information is something I picked up in one of my social studies classes in college, and I stored it somewhere way back in one of the tiny crevices of my memory; then last week I was thinking about a totally different topic, and that long hidden piece of knowledge came floating back up to the surface. What was on my mind was how I used to take pride in just how many phone numbers I had stored in my memory bank, and now that smart phones have completely taken over our methods of communication, I don't even know my own kids' phone numbers. There's no longer a need to memorize phone numbers...our phones do it for us. Then my mind went another direction: I've been singing in church since I was knee high to a grasshopper, and at one point in my life, there is no telling how many songs I knew by heart...every word. When we learned a praise chorus or a choir song, we learned it....completely. We didn't look at a book or a cheat sheet, but now that all the words are posted on a screen for everyone to see, I don't have to memorize a song any more. We have two big screens for the congregation to see, and then there's one on the back wall that's there strictly for the singers.
Now don't get me wrong--I'm not complaining. I love the new technology, but if they were to suddenly take away the big screens and the mobile phones, it would not be a problem for me to go back to the way we used to do it, because I developed that part of my brain when I was a little boy. Here's my concern: Will the children born today develop the ability to memorize phone numbers, songs, etc. the way I did? If technology does all that for them, will that be a part of their brain that never develops and ends up becoming useless? I don't know, but I do wonder about it. Every generation gains more knowledge than all the ones before, and I have no doubt that it will continue to be that way. I know there will be so much for them to store in their memory, but I'm not sure that "remembering" and "memorizing" are the same things, and I'm wondering if the "memorizing" part of their brains may never develop the way mine did.
I can still recall the words to more of the old songs than I care to admit, but when we're singing the newer songs, which I love, incidentally, I still have to look at the words. At first I just attributed it to old age, but now that I think about it, I believe it's because I never had to memorize the new ones. One other point: I can't hit the high notes like I used to either, but I still attribute that to old age. All I need now is a new idea that debunks that theory as well.
Preston
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXIX
Okay, so this may be a biased opinion, but Lake, my little grandson, made a statement that I thought was a pretty good observation for a five year old. He said, "I wish I was an adult. All kids want to be adults and all adults want to be kids." Of course I could've explained to him that adults have now been both and they've figured out that being a kid is better, but I don't think he would've agreed at that point. But doesn't that make sense? People in general never seem to be quite satisfied with where they are at any given point in life, and I guess I'm the same way. I'm definitely not the first person to ever say this, but I would like to take the wisdom I've acquired in the last sixty years and transfer it to a twenty-four year old body. But just like everyone else, I have to make do with what I am right now.
That leads me to ask this question, "Is there a perfect age?" If it was possible for kids to move up to the age they really want to be, and older people could move down to the age they prefer, where would they settle? It stands to reason that if children don't feel that they're old enough, and adults feel that they're too old, there must me an age somewhere in the middle where everyone would be happy. I think I know where the answer lies, but I haven't figured out a method of acquiring that knowledge. So I'll present it to you today, and see if you can help me come up with an answer.
In my few short years on this earth, I've attended funerals for two year olds and ninety-five year olds, and everywhere in between....people who get to experience Heaven before I do. I have, however, read considerably about Heaven, and one thing I've learned is that people who are there will never grow old, although the majority of the people who go there are old before they go. But what about when they get there? The way I see it, they won't be old any more. That leads me to believe that everyone in Heaven is the same age. So now, your homework assignment for today is to devise a formula that can be used to calculate the age of everyone in Heaven. When we come up with that answer, we'll know what the perfect age is. Hint: Keep in mind that there's a possibility that in Heaven, there may be no such thing as age.
If there is a perfect age for us earthlings, how long does it last? Does it last an entire year? Or would it only last for a minute? Whatever the answer, there's not much we can do about it, because every one of us gets a little older with each passing second, whether we want to or not. The only conclusion I can come up with is that the perfect age for Lake at this point in his life is five. The age I am now is just right for me. Tomorrow I need to be one day older. That will be perfect.
Preston
That leads me to ask this question, "Is there a perfect age?" If it was possible for kids to move up to the age they really want to be, and older people could move down to the age they prefer, where would they settle? It stands to reason that if children don't feel that they're old enough, and adults feel that they're too old, there must me an age somewhere in the middle where everyone would be happy. I think I know where the answer lies, but I haven't figured out a method of acquiring that knowledge. So I'll present it to you today, and see if you can help me come up with an answer.
In my few short years on this earth, I've attended funerals for two year olds and ninety-five year olds, and everywhere in between....people who get to experience Heaven before I do. I have, however, read considerably about Heaven, and one thing I've learned is that people who are there will never grow old, although the majority of the people who go there are old before they go. But what about when they get there? The way I see it, they won't be old any more. That leads me to believe that everyone in Heaven is the same age. So now, your homework assignment for today is to devise a formula that can be used to calculate the age of everyone in Heaven. When we come up with that answer, we'll know what the perfect age is. Hint: Keep in mind that there's a possibility that in Heaven, there may be no such thing as age.
If there is a perfect age for us earthlings, how long does it last? Does it last an entire year? Or would it only last for a minute? Whatever the answer, there's not much we can do about it, because every one of us gets a little older with each passing second, whether we want to or not. The only conclusion I can come up with is that the perfect age for Lake at this point in his life is five. The age I am now is just right for me. Tomorrow I need to be one day older. That will be perfect.
Preston
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXVIII
There may be a day when I'll count it as a success that I'm able to walk to the mailbox. I wonder if I'll still be blogging then. You may be reading some high drama account of how I braved a slippery driveway to bring my trash can back away from the street. It may sound a little humorous, but it is a distinct possibility. Overall, I'm an optimistic person, a positive thinker, yet I must admit that I've given some thought to what my mental outlook will be if I ever reach the stage in life where I will be basically immobile. It's a little depressing thinking about it, but I believe I will be better prepared if I have a plan of action to keep myself in a positive state of mind if and when that day ever comes.
I must never stop dreaming. Unless I live to be more than 120 years old, the majority of my life is already behind me, yet I still have so much that I want to accomplish, so many places I still want to go, and so many marathons that I still want to run. There's no doubt about the fact that eventually I will have to scale back some of these challenges, but I never want to reach the point in life where all of my personal ambition is gone and I have no goals that I still want to achieve. Even if I have to endure a little ridicule about how slowly I move and how long it takes me to complete my task, it will be worth it all when I can ask this simple question, "How many other people my age do you see who are even attempting to do what I've just done?"
The reason for writing those first two paragraphs is to make sure you are aware of where I stand regarding my own personal dreams and goals when you read the rest of what I have to say. So let me emphatically declare one more time, "As long as I have breath in my body, I will NEVER stop dreaming about at least one more challenge that I (me, myself) want to conquer. But something else occurred to me a few days ago that I gave a token amount of consideration, then one of my good friends, Nicole Dray, made a simple statement that brought it back to my mind like a torrent. She said, "When your children's dreams come true, yours do too." I guess I was amazed that I had just been thinking almost the same identical thing, and Nicole worded it so well. Thank you so much, Nicole. I'm pretty sure I know why you said it, and congratulations are in order!
I'm absolutely sure why my mind was on that topic. I have two kids, a daughter and a son, and both of them are seeing dreams fulfilled at the same time. My son set sales goals high enough to win a trip to an exotic island for he and his wife, and for the second year in a row, he has achieved that dream. For years my daughter has dreamed of a career that she would love to pursue, but it's a dream that comes with a price. She has now paid that price, and at exactly the same time that my son will be living it up in the Caribbean, she will be graduating with the degree for which she has so long dreamed, with a lucrative job already in the bag. And Mom and Dad feel like we've just won the lottery!
If you have kids, you'll understand what I'm talking about, but there's a little more to it than that. You see, a long time ago, when our kids were tiny babies, Angie and I dreamed of preparing them to make something of themselves, and part of our sense of pride is seeing those dreams come true. What we've learned in the process, however, is that by teaching our kids to dream, we have multiplied our own dreams. She and I both still have our own individual goals that we are working hard to accomplish, yet now that our kids know how to dream and how to pursue those dreams, that's where we've directed our major focus. It's not about us anymore.
Preston
I must never stop dreaming. Unless I live to be more than 120 years old, the majority of my life is already behind me, yet I still have so much that I want to accomplish, so many places I still want to go, and so many marathons that I still want to run. There's no doubt about the fact that eventually I will have to scale back some of these challenges, but I never want to reach the point in life where all of my personal ambition is gone and I have no goals that I still want to achieve. Even if I have to endure a little ridicule about how slowly I move and how long it takes me to complete my task, it will be worth it all when I can ask this simple question, "How many other people my age do you see who are even attempting to do what I've just done?"
The reason for writing those first two paragraphs is to make sure you are aware of where I stand regarding my own personal dreams and goals when you read the rest of what I have to say. So let me emphatically declare one more time, "As long as I have breath in my body, I will NEVER stop dreaming about at least one more challenge that I (me, myself) want to conquer. But something else occurred to me a few days ago that I gave a token amount of consideration, then one of my good friends, Nicole Dray, made a simple statement that brought it back to my mind like a torrent. She said, "When your children's dreams come true, yours do too." I guess I was amazed that I had just been thinking almost the same identical thing, and Nicole worded it so well. Thank you so much, Nicole. I'm pretty sure I know why you said it, and congratulations are in order!
I'm absolutely sure why my mind was on that topic. I have two kids, a daughter and a son, and both of them are seeing dreams fulfilled at the same time. My son set sales goals high enough to win a trip to an exotic island for he and his wife, and for the second year in a row, he has achieved that dream. For years my daughter has dreamed of a career that she would love to pursue, but it's a dream that comes with a price. She has now paid that price, and at exactly the same time that my son will be living it up in the Caribbean, she will be graduating with the degree for which she has so long dreamed, with a lucrative job already in the bag. And Mom and Dad feel like we've just won the lottery!
If you have kids, you'll understand what I'm talking about, but there's a little more to it than that. You see, a long time ago, when our kids were tiny babies, Angie and I dreamed of preparing them to make something of themselves, and part of our sense of pride is seeing those dreams come true. What we've learned in the process, however, is that by teaching our kids to dream, we have multiplied our own dreams. She and I both still have our own individual goals that we are working hard to accomplish, yet now that our kids know how to dream and how to pursue those dreams, that's where we've directed our major focus. It's not about us anymore.
Preston
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXVII
When I recently crossed paths with an old friend that I haven't seen in quite a while, he asked, "So what's been going on in your life?" I gave him a general overview of the direction my life has taken in the past several years, but after he and I had parted, I thought more about the question he had asked me, and I decided to relate to you some things that have been going on...things of which most of you are probably unaware. Angie and I have learned some lessons, and I would like to share some of what we've learned...some things that have given us a new outlook on life.
I often refer to Angie, my wife, as a "private citizen." What I mean by that is when she's facing a problem or a situation in life, she is not the type to share it with the world. In other words, she likes to keep her private life private. I totally understand, because I'm basically the same way. After some discussion with her however, we have decided that we will share some of what's been going on in the Davidson household in the last few months. Hopefully, I will be able to persuade her to give her side of the story in the near future as well, so you can also hear it from her perspective.
A couple months ago she and I volunteered to head up and coordinate a cookout for our LifeFocus class to be held at Kiroli Park. We did it, and I believe everyone who attended had a great time, but that particular weekend was especially stressful for us for more reasons than just having a cookout. I'll explain later why I feel that class outing plays a part in this story. At about the same time that we volunteered to take on that particular project, Angie was having some medical issues that just didn't seem to be getting any better, so she was going through a series of tests to try to find out what was causing her discomfort. When it turned out not to be what we thought it was, an x-ray was ordered, mainly to check her gall bladder. When our doctor checked the results, he called her and said, "Your gall bladder looks good, but I can see something in there that needs to be checked out. There's a spot on your pancreas." Well, that wasn't good news, to say the least. He ordered a CT scan so he could get a better look, and when those results came back, sure enough, there it was. He then referred us to a doctor in Shreveport, a specialist who could go in, take a look, and let us know for sure what was going on. When we went to see him for our initial visit before the actual procedure, he told us that, based on what he had seen, we should go ahead and plan on surgery. He then said, "Whatever I find in there will be sent off for a biopsy, but I do this all the time, and I'll know right away if it's cancer...and I'll tell you what I see." Then when the name "M.D. Anderson Hospital" in Houston was mentioned, it sent chills up our spines.
The procedure was scheduled for early Monday morning, less than a week after that initial visit, and it was also the morning after our class outing. I really believe that having the responsibility of overseeing the cookout was helpful for us that weekend, because it kept our minds occupied. Through all of this, the only person other than immediate family who knew the whole story was Angie's boss, who is a surgeon. Without mentioning her specific needs, Angie went down front for prayer a couple times at church, and I believe her faith was strong due to some events earlier in her life that had worked to increase her faith. I should also add that there is a scripture that I kept quoting to myself that gave me strength. It is Matthew 6:27: "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" Most of you will remember less than a month ago, Jansen Martinez wrote for me telling her story of how she lost her twin babies, and has since been restored another set of twins, a boy and a girl, the same that she had lost. (The odds of that happening are 3 in 10,000.) Jansen had relayed her story to us the day before Angie's procedure, and it was while I was sitting alone in the waiting room, during the time they were working on her, that I contacted Jansen asking her to share her experiences. I know her story helped a lot of people, but it was perfectly timed for us as a gigantic faith builder.
I must admit that I was really stressed that morning as I sat there in that hospital, but when they called my name and told me the doctor wanted to visit with me, I felt a peace and a calmness that I had not felt in weeks. He went straight to the point: "Well, there's no mass. I checked every square inch of her pancreas, and there's nothing there. It looks good." I could tell by the doctor's demeanor that he was really enjoying giving us that information. All we could say was, "Thank you God!!"
While our report turned out good, we were fully aware that there are just as many people whose news is the opposite. I'm not sure how I would've reacted if what we heard had been different. What would our drive home been like that day? What would we have said to each other? More than likely some of you know from experience what it's like to hear a bad report. I know from exerience that on that one and a half hour drive back home, the things that we had complained and worried about in the past weren't so important any more. We're not sure what that spot on the x-ray was all about...in fact, we may never know. What we do know is that Angie's pancreas looks good, and she is feeling better day by day. For that we are grateful! May the rest of our days be filled with thanksgiving.
Preston
I often refer to Angie, my wife, as a "private citizen." What I mean by that is when she's facing a problem or a situation in life, she is not the type to share it with the world. In other words, she likes to keep her private life private. I totally understand, because I'm basically the same way. After some discussion with her however, we have decided that we will share some of what's been going on in the Davidson household in the last few months. Hopefully, I will be able to persuade her to give her side of the story in the near future as well, so you can also hear it from her perspective.
A couple months ago she and I volunteered to head up and coordinate a cookout for our LifeFocus class to be held at Kiroli Park. We did it, and I believe everyone who attended had a great time, but that particular weekend was especially stressful for us for more reasons than just having a cookout. I'll explain later why I feel that class outing plays a part in this story. At about the same time that we volunteered to take on that particular project, Angie was having some medical issues that just didn't seem to be getting any better, so she was going through a series of tests to try to find out what was causing her discomfort. When it turned out not to be what we thought it was, an x-ray was ordered, mainly to check her gall bladder. When our doctor checked the results, he called her and said, "Your gall bladder looks good, but I can see something in there that needs to be checked out. There's a spot on your pancreas." Well, that wasn't good news, to say the least. He ordered a CT scan so he could get a better look, and when those results came back, sure enough, there it was. He then referred us to a doctor in Shreveport, a specialist who could go in, take a look, and let us know for sure what was going on. When we went to see him for our initial visit before the actual procedure, he told us that, based on what he had seen, we should go ahead and plan on surgery. He then said, "Whatever I find in there will be sent off for a biopsy, but I do this all the time, and I'll know right away if it's cancer...and I'll tell you what I see." Then when the name "M.D. Anderson Hospital" in Houston was mentioned, it sent chills up our spines.
The procedure was scheduled for early Monday morning, less than a week after that initial visit, and it was also the morning after our class outing. I really believe that having the responsibility of overseeing the cookout was helpful for us that weekend, because it kept our minds occupied. Through all of this, the only person other than immediate family who knew the whole story was Angie's boss, who is a surgeon. Without mentioning her specific needs, Angie went down front for prayer a couple times at church, and I believe her faith was strong due to some events earlier in her life that had worked to increase her faith. I should also add that there is a scripture that I kept quoting to myself that gave me strength. It is Matthew 6:27: "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" Most of you will remember less than a month ago, Jansen Martinez wrote for me telling her story of how she lost her twin babies, and has since been restored another set of twins, a boy and a girl, the same that she had lost. (The odds of that happening are 3 in 10,000.) Jansen had relayed her story to us the day before Angie's procedure, and it was while I was sitting alone in the waiting room, during the time they were working on her, that I contacted Jansen asking her to share her experiences. I know her story helped a lot of people, but it was perfectly timed for us as a gigantic faith builder.
I must admit that I was really stressed that morning as I sat there in that hospital, but when they called my name and told me the doctor wanted to visit with me, I felt a peace and a calmness that I had not felt in weeks. He went straight to the point: "Well, there's no mass. I checked every square inch of her pancreas, and there's nothing there. It looks good." I could tell by the doctor's demeanor that he was really enjoying giving us that information. All we could say was, "Thank you God!!"
While our report turned out good, we were fully aware that there are just as many people whose news is the opposite. I'm not sure how I would've reacted if what we heard had been different. What would our drive home been like that day? What would we have said to each other? More than likely some of you know from experience what it's like to hear a bad report. I know from exerience that on that one and a half hour drive back home, the things that we had complained and worried about in the past weren't so important any more. We're not sure what that spot on the x-ray was all about...in fact, we may never know. What we do know is that Angie's pancreas looks good, and she is feeling better day by day. For that we are grateful! May the rest of our days be filled with thanksgiving.
Preston
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCLXXVI
I just found out some things about myself that make me somewhat less than proud. Now before I start explaining what I'm talking about, let me clarify one point: I think it's a good thing for a person to recognize a few of his own faults that need to be corrected, but there's a big difference between someone admitting that he needs to make some improvements, and someone beating up on himself and putting himself down. What I'm doing is the former; in no way am I low-rating myself...in fact, I've been amazed at how many people have told me that they have made the same discovery about themselves.
Now for a little background that will help describe the circumstances that led me to perform this self-examination: I am a member of a four-person rotation who teaches an adult Sunday School class known as LifeFocus, and this past Sunday was my turn. I began my lesson preparation a little over a week prior to time for me to teach, and as I was contemplating some of the different points that I felt needed to be made, I decided to present myself with a little challenge (It turned out to be a pretty big challenge.): I would see if I could go a whole week without making any negative comments about anyone else. That was on a Saturday, a week and a day before "my Sunday." Then I came up with an even better idea, so the next morning when I got to class, I asked my friend, Rusty Puckett, who was teaching that morning, if I could have sixty seconds at the end of the class to present the same challenge to the entire class, and we would discuss it the following week. I explained to them that I had decided to go on a week-long fast, but it was a type of fast where I could eat anything I want at any time. I called it a "Negativity Fast" and I invited "whosoeverwill" to join me. I was thrilled when the majority of the class agreed to do so.
Ladies and Gentlemen, that was a long week! I completely lost count of how many times I had to check myself as I was about to make some type of negative comment about another individual. If there was any consolation to be found in this saga, it was the comments I was hearing from my friends in the class who were experiencing the same types of challenges that I was facing. "It would be easier to go on a food fast," and "This is one of the toughest weeks I've ever lived through" are just a couple of the many statements I was hearing over and over from my classmates. However, when Sunday came and the "fast" was over, there was one comment that I kept hearing time and again: "I didn't realize just how negative I've become." I made the same declaration myself.
Well, that seemingly endless week is now behind us, and we're all free to go back to our old ways if that's what we desire, but like I said in the first sentence, I'm not proud of the person that I now know I had become. I know what it's like to try to carry on a conversation with someone who is a constant complainer, and I don't want to be that person. Do you know what type person is the exact opposite of a complainer? It's someone who's thankful. That's who I want to be. Now I'm wise enough to know that changing old habits is a daunting task and requires a determination made of steel, but I believe I'm up to the challenge. Whether I succeed or fail is my choice, and my decision is made.
Preston
Now for a little background that will help describe the circumstances that led me to perform this self-examination: I am a member of a four-person rotation who teaches an adult Sunday School class known as LifeFocus, and this past Sunday was my turn. I began my lesson preparation a little over a week prior to time for me to teach, and as I was contemplating some of the different points that I felt needed to be made, I decided to present myself with a little challenge (It turned out to be a pretty big challenge.): I would see if I could go a whole week without making any negative comments about anyone else. That was on a Saturday, a week and a day before "my Sunday." Then I came up with an even better idea, so the next morning when I got to class, I asked my friend, Rusty Puckett, who was teaching that morning, if I could have sixty seconds at the end of the class to present the same challenge to the entire class, and we would discuss it the following week. I explained to them that I had decided to go on a week-long fast, but it was a type of fast where I could eat anything I want at any time. I called it a "Negativity Fast" and I invited "whosoeverwill" to join me. I was thrilled when the majority of the class agreed to do so.
Ladies and Gentlemen, that was a long week! I completely lost count of how many times I had to check myself as I was about to make some type of negative comment about another individual. If there was any consolation to be found in this saga, it was the comments I was hearing from my friends in the class who were experiencing the same types of challenges that I was facing. "It would be easier to go on a food fast," and "This is one of the toughest weeks I've ever lived through" are just a couple of the many statements I was hearing over and over from my classmates. However, when Sunday came and the "fast" was over, there was one comment that I kept hearing time and again: "I didn't realize just how negative I've become." I made the same declaration myself.
Well, that seemingly endless week is now behind us, and we're all free to go back to our old ways if that's what we desire, but like I said in the first sentence, I'm not proud of the person that I now know I had become. I know what it's like to try to carry on a conversation with someone who is a constant complainer, and I don't want to be that person. Do you know what type person is the exact opposite of a complainer? It's someone who's thankful. That's who I want to be. Now I'm wise enough to know that changing old habits is a daunting task and requires a determination made of steel, but I believe I'm up to the challenge. Whether I succeed or fail is my choice, and my decision is made.
Preston
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