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.”

You want to be a what?

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

Like millions of Americans I am an avid iPhone user. I have more stuff downloaded to my phone than I will listen to/watch/fidget with, but I want it there at a moments notice so I can use it. You know what I mean. One of my favorite apps on the iPhone of late (aside from the Food Network app) is Slacker Radio.

This past week I needed some new music. I tend to listen to the same stuff over and over and needed to branch out. Slacker Radio has a station devoted to the top 50 songs of 2010 ten across all of their stations. I figured I would give it a listen. I have come to a few conclusions:

1. There is a lot of popular stuff out there that isn’t very good. A lot that is, but some of it is really bad.

2. I don’t like when musicians have to sing their name at the beginning of each of their songs. No offense Jason DeRulo, but I don’t need to be reminded it is you singing.

3. Music really is a sign of the culture. This was brought to my attention in the song Billionaire by Travie McCoy and Bruno Mars. It is a catchy tune, but left me scratching my head. I wouldn’t recommend this one to anyone for a few reasons. Let me explain.

The first line of the songs says, “I want to be a billionaire so $%^&*& bad, buy all the things I never had.” Not millionaire. Billionaire. Many Americans struggle to get by from month to month and live in massive amounts of debt. The idea of being out of debt is overwhelming. The idea of having a large amount of money saved up is a dream. For most people a million dollars could be doable over a long period of time (investing wisely over time, see Dave Ramsey), but a billion dollars! That is ludicrous. It might as wells say, “I want to win the lottery so %^&*(&^ bad.” Also, what is it that you never had that will cost a billion dollars to buy?

They go on to explain through the song all of the things they would do if they were billionaires: picture on the cover of Forbes (with Oprah and the Queen), playing basketball with the president, and a bunch of other stuff. Some of the stuff they mention is noble, some of it not so much.

Like I said, I have nothing against these guys. They are doing what they do and making a living at it. The song is just a reflection of the culture. There are many who pipe dream about what they would do with all the money, not realizing they can take the first steps to a better life today. Many who fritter their money away on lottery tickets and put their hopes in things that will continue to disappoint.

I choose to make good choices. I choose to spend and save wisely. Hopefully, one day I will achieve most of the goals I have set. (Many that are included in the lyrics of the song: adopting babies, helping the less fortunate, etc.) It won’t take a billion dollars to do that. Just the decision to do the best with what God has given me…and tons of hard work.

What are your thoughts on this?

 

What’s bothering me? I’m worried!

~ David Willis ~ Leave a comment

I was sitting at work the other day and I couldn’t get it off my mind. It bugged me and bugged me and bugged me. I did my best to ignore it. But, it nagged me until I paid attention. I tried to put it off again. Fail. I tried again. Epic fail. What had me in its grip? Worry.

It doesn’t matter what it is that we worry about, once we let it get in there it is so hard to get it to go away. It could be about money, health issues, relationships, or a variety of other things that are important to us. They are often unfounded, or barely founded. But, once it gets in your mind it multiplies like wild fire.

I have spent more than my share of time battling it over the years. Finding out I had cancer in 2004 provided a ton of it. Losing a job years ago added a bunch. Complications with Trey’s delivery added more than I thought I could bear. What did it all amount to? A lot of stress that didn’t do me any good in the end.

There is a great verse that goes like this: who by worrying can add a single hour to his life? (Matthew 6:27) I have discovered this time and time again. Being concerned about things can be productive. Doing my part is necessary. But, letting those concerns shift to worry only makes us anxious and clouds our minds. Concern and hope can exist together. Worry chokes hope.

After my diagnosis in 2004 I decided that I was going to do everything in my power to live. I would endure the surgery. I would undergo chemotherapy. I would do everything I could to make sure I had the best chance possible. The results were up to God. I just wanted to make sure I did my part. I was concerned. I refused over and over to let it turn into worry. Thankfully, the outcome is what I wanted it to be. I am still here.

What do you worry about? Are the problems real or imagined? Are they things you can do something about? Do you need to ask for help? If they are things you can tackle, get after it. If they are things you need help with, ask. If they are things you have no control over, do what you can do.

Even if I have to make the choice a thousand times, I refuse to let worry overtake me. I know it won’t do me any good in the long term and it makes the short term miserable.