Author: David Willis

Sticks? Really? Now that is kinda funny.

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

I had one of those oh no moments two days ago. We have been potty training our boy. He did his part and hopped down to go play. I flushed and nothing happened. I plunged and nothing happened. Then, I looked down at my feet and saw it…water running out of the bottom of the toilet. We knew that we were going to have to call the plumber because water was not draining like it was supposed to, but this was just gross.

So, next day, very little water was used before the plumber got there. I made plans to reinstall the commode and got supplies (needed to be done anyway.) The plumber showed up while I was at work. He did his plumber thing on the sewer clean-out in the back yard. Reread the subject line of the post. Yep. Sticks. My bouncing boy had stuffed a bunch of sticks and rocks down the pipe (with his mother and I unaware of the sticks…I caught him stuffing a couple of rocks, but maybe I didn’t catch him as fast as I thought I did). 100 bucks out the door to Mr. Rooter. And guess what? I am not really all that upset.

Ok. I don’t have spare Benjamins laying around. That part hurts a little. But, I do have the thing in perspective. Trey loves being outside. He loves playing with rocks and dirt and sticks. He is naturally curious. He is a young boy. He put two and two together and watched all that stuff disappear and probably had a blast doing it. It isn’t his fault that he clogged up the sewer line. He was just being curious.

Who is to blame? Me. It is my fault, because I knew the cap for the cleanout had a hole in it. I have walked by that thing hundreds of times and thought to myself, whoa, I hope nothing gets in there. Yeah, I know…dumb. I went to Lowes tonight and got a new cap. I could have saved a hundred bucks for a buck seventy six. Dave Ramsey calls that stupid tax. I paid 100 dollars extra for not taking care of the problem when I first saw it.

I can’t think of all of the times that something unfortunate has happened that I have gotten upset about that I could have prevented all together. I have had more of these times than I would like to admit. I have had things broken that I knew needed attention and could have been fixed. Things disappear that I should have put up in the first place. Had I done what I was supposed to the bad thing would have never had the chance to come around.

So, I choose to laugh at this one. My little teacher is hard at work. Trey has taught me and reminded me about a lot of things in life. Things that I need to get right now and teach back to him as he gets older. This lesson? Fix the hole in the pipe when you first see it and it will prevent issues later.

What are you afraid of?

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

Like most people, I struggle with fear. Fear of failure. Fear of insignificance. Fear of snakes. It is irrational. I don’t know why, but fear can paralyze me quick. I can’t talk. I can’t think. I hate when I allow that to happen to me.

For the longest time I thought that fears were just something that I would have to accept. My lot in life. But somewhere deep inside of me there was a voice telling me that I was not supposed to be ruled by fear. I didn’t have to give in to it. I don’t have to give in to it. So, there are areas of my life that I have started to turn into the fear. To stare at it and examine it. I am finding it to be nothing more than wind and shadows. I am finding myself empowered…but I still stay away from snakes.

What are you afraid of? What imagined things hold you back from what you could be doing? I think that the words fear and alive are opposed in many ways. If we want to be alive, fully alive, we can’t live under fear’s rule. We have to be able to look into the fear, see the truth, and do what needs to be done.

There are times we will all be afraid of something. Consider the source. Some fears keep you safe. Some fears only serve to keep you in chains. Which one are you up against?

Feeling Small

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

I have to wonder what he is thinking when I walk in the door and he spots me from across the room. He smiles and let out a squeal and rushes over to me. He makes coming home Extra special.

There are times when I look down at him though, and I wonder if he ever feels small. Like he is a little person in a big person’s world. I know he doesn’t feel that way all the time, but when he is tired and when he doesn’t feel good, I am sure he does. For some reason, I think he is ok with it. He knows his mom and dad love him and want to take care of him.

He reaches up his arms and sticks out his lip and lets out a cry, but moments later when I (or his mom) is holding him close everything is ok. The bad is gone and the world is made right again.

The question I have is this: do we ever outgrow this? I am not sure we do. We all have times where we are going to feel small and we need someone stronger, and more able to lift us up where everything is ok. That is why it is essential to have friends and family around who will walk with you through this life. Just like my son can’t stay up and going all the time, neither can any of the rest of us. This life was not meant to be lived alone. We need each other. When I have had time to be with the ones that uplift me, my problems don’t seem as big anymore. I don’t feel so small.

Do you have people you can go to when you are overwhelmed? Just being with them makes a world of difference doesn’t it?

I really miss that old truck…

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

Don’t you love it when something stupid you did a long time ago comes back up and still stings? Yesterday I had to borrow my father-in-law’s truck to haul some dirt for a garden that we are planting. He drives a mid 90’s model Chevy. It reminds me of my first pickup, a 1991 GMC Sierra. It was an awesome truck that I should have never traded away.

I got it from my parents right after I got married. They had it when I was in high school. It was the truck I got to drive on special occasions. It was the truck I took on my honeymoon. It even got stolen from me once and returned a month later. There was nothing wrong with it when I traded it off. I had the new car itch and had to have a sedan. I felt like it was my turn to get something new. Actually I felt entitled to it since Marixa had gotten her car the year before.

So, I took Marixa and my old truck to the auto dealership. I had my eye on a pontiac. My biggest requirement? I wanted something with a CD player. Yeah. Dumb. I know. I had no business being at that car lot. Marixa didn’t feel right about it the whole time, but I kept right on.

I can’t remember why, but the car I was looking at wouldn’t work, so the guys at the dealership pulled another one around. I had only looked at one car. At one dealership. I test drove the one they pulled around. And bought it. This seems even dumber now that I am writing it all down. I barely knew if the car was worth the price they were asking. This all happened in 2002.

Fast forward to the next year. I was miserable where I was working. So, I quit. I had no back up plan. No nothing. I didn’t have a job for 2 months and the next job I took was at a 9 thousand dollar pay cut. Did I mention I didn’t owe anything on my truck? I traded in no payments for a twelve thousand dollar loan. Again, dumb dumb dumb. And now, I had no money to pay for it. That all went out the window with the job I quit. I had to sell my new car…for almost half of what I paid for it.

Thankfully, the years have a way of dulling the pain. I miss that old truck, but I am grateful for the experience trading it in taught me. I don’t give in to the entitled feeling anymore. I would far rather drive an old pickup that is paid for than a newer car that would have my wallet bound in chains.

What dumb thing have you done because of you car? What did you learn from it?

The wayward son…a retelling.

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

He stood at the corner. The sign he held in his hands spoke volumes. Times were tough and money hard to come by. He hadn’t bathed in a week. Lord only knows where he had slept the evening before, if he had slept at all. Didn’t he have a home he could go to? What brought him to this corner? Where did he get the marker and the cardboard for his sign?

His tired shoulders slumped as the cars passed him by. The hunger pains racked his body, but not as bad as the despair did. Times had not always been like these. There had  been another day, years before. Before the women. Before the booze. Before the needles. Before despair.

He lifted his face. The streetlight changed to red once again. Slowly he panned the cars for generosity. A window rolled down and he walked to the  person seated in the car. Two dollars. That was better than most people did. He muttered a thank you as the car drove away.

The streets were wet from the rain of the day. His clothes were sticking to his body, but at least it was cooler than the normal heat of an August day. How had he sunk this far?

He had been comfortable once. He had lived in luxury. His father had a strict set of rules that he chose not to abide by though, and in anger, one day, he demanded his share of the inheritance and left. Never to look back. Never to be constricted by those rules again.

The thoughts of years passed flashed through his mind often as he watched the cars go by. Arrogant people passed by every minute. But he knew well that very few had been as arrogant as he. Thousands of dollars he had, all of it he squandered. In a short amount of time he had nothing.

Too ashamed to go home, he stayed where he was and tried to work to make his way. Habits die hard. Expensive habits die painfully. His life was now broken and, he thought, wasted.

There had to be a better life than this. The life of one of the workers in his father’s employ was so much better than what he was now doing. Even if he couldn’t return as a son, he would ask his father for a job. It had to be better than his life now.

So, he picked up his backpack containing everything he owned in the world. It was many miles back to his father’s house, but the journey was underway. It would take several days to make it back, but it had to be better. It just had to.

His legs were tired. His feet sore. He climbed the hill in front of him. His father’s house was down on the other side. It wasn’t much further. As he reached the top of the hill he paused for a moment to catch his breath. He looked down on the valley where he grew up. It was familiar, but he knew it would never be as it was. Never again would he take it all for granted, even though none of it was his.

He started walking down the hill. To his amazement, he saw a man running toward him. The man was older and well dressed. Why was he running? Who was this? It was…his father. His father was running to him. Immediately he felt fear, but that was soon gone as he realized his father was smiling…and crying.

With a swift embrace, the father took the son in his arms and pulled him close. The son’s clothes did not stop him. The smell of the man did not stop the father. The father’s son was home and he rejoiced and cried as he held him.

“Father, please forgive me for my stupidity. I have come back to ask you for a job. I don’t deserve to be your son, but I will gladly spend my life working for you to repay the cost I have been to you.”

“Son, I have waited for you. Every day since you have been gone I have searched this road for you. I believed in my heart you would return. Now you have. You are my son and you will always be my son. I love you. Nothing has ever changed that. You may work with me as we live our lives as family. Come, we must celebrate for you have come home.”