Monday, February 5, 2024
Thursday, February 1, 2024
"Lost Gratefulness" - JR Everhart
I get so consumed with my day-to-day life, so focused on the 10,000 hurdles I have to jump over to simply survive, attempting to scratch out some measurable level of success. The constant fight to stay on track and not waste huge amounts of time focusing on my shortcomings and all the things in my life I need to fix. This, in and of itself is exhausting! Focus is everything inside this human experience, and life is hard, damn hard! Only those with healthy coping skills will survive (intact), and this walk can’t be done alone. We need each other, or at least a support system 99% free & clear of toxicity. This requires face to face connection and a lot of time facing uncomfortable truth about ourselves. Therein that struggle is fertile ground to grow from. It's all in line with a proverbial seed first being broken in order to absorb the nutrients necessary to sprout forth into the adjacent season of growth.
Brokenness has been such a huge part of my entire life, and the healing process takes so very much out of me at times. Some days it’s all I can do to just make it to the couch, and from there, make an effort to put the pocket computer down. Trying to dull the suffering I deny each day (via that device), knowing that this is about as good as it gets. The majority of this mindset is an outgrowth of demonic lies only meant to drag me deeper into the pit of depression. It’s times like those where I need to stand up and get my body moving.
But more often than not, someone far worse off than me crosses my path, reminding me of just how small my problems / complaints truly are. The truth is…I’m so very blessed. I’m mostly healthy and able to work. I’m no longer in the grasps of addition as I once was; my kids are healthy, and I have a warm bed to sleep in every night. So what’s my problem!?! It’s very simple! I’ve allowed my focus to be on work. Self-work, career-work, around the house-work, and so on and so forth. It never ends and the enemy is always there to remind me of all the falling short I'm known for.
I talked to a dear friend of mine earlier today. She was stressed to the max attempting to make time for house-work on top of running her own business and marriage. I sat there thinking, “You need better boundaries and realistic expectations in your life. You can’t do it all at once…” And without missing a beat, God reminded me of how I’m doing the same thing in my life. And I’m someone that conscientiously attempts to count his blessings more often than not, and I’m still - so very consistently - out of focus as to what truly matters.
Not to mention the friend diagnosed with cancer or another suddenly dying within a car accident. These tragedies seemingly force me to weigh what is truly important within my life.
Ultimately, I need to do a better job honing-in my focus towards gratefulness. It’s a lost attribute in our world of hustle and bustle. We are better people with gratefulness in our field of vision. We give more, are slower to anger, and recognize more joy in this world when we’re focused on just how good we have it. What is so important in our lives that we can’t stop for a few minutes each day and thank God for his mercy and grace? I’ve hit some pretty bleak valleys within my life and not once was I able to outweigh my issues against the basic blessings within my life. 60% of this planet still has no domestic hot water. I could have just as easily been born into a jungle family in the Congo (living in a mud hut) as I was born in God's country, West Virginia. And yet I loose my temper about every other day on the highway due to road rage. All because I might arrive five minutes later than I'd hoped for.
Perspective is everything, and reexaming my perspective is an ongoing struggle. Pray for me and I’ll pray for you and maybe both of us can do a better job of living inside gratefulness instead of constant frustration / complaining.
Wednesday, January 31, 2024
Wield Your Positive Influence Here Within Samson Society
One of the most substantial outcomes relative to teenage Rob wielding his (positive) influence happened during an (snow day) ice storm. The year was likely somewhere around early 1988. The Christmas prior, I'd been gifted a Yamaha keyboard (though I actually didn't play keyboard with any semblance of true ability).
My best friend, Greg, on the other hand, did play keyboard with envious skill, and he'd just purchased his own Yamaha synthesizer (from Service Merchandise, no doubt) in response to having "test driven" my own.
Since I was always looking to spend time with Greg, and knowing that we both enjoyed our mutual friend, Todd's companionship (who just happened to own a Casio keyboard), our keyboard trio, Infinity, serendipitously came together.
And man, oh man, did we three enjoy our time together, composing and practicing, practicing, practicing before finally performing (school talent shows, etc.). And it all took root with the three of us sitting cross-legged on my small bedroom's cut-pile carpeted floor, laughing and carrying-on, as only us three nerdy Mississippi teens could do during a mid-January late '80s snow day.
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Being cognizant of (& comfortable wielding) your positive influence is the very best toolset at your disposal as a Samson guy. Each of us is unique with our specific gifting in this regard. Some are writers, others are encouragers (spoken word), others still seemingly sages relative to most any circumstance. And of course, it's a given that communities like Samson Society are perfectly suited to positive influencers. How and why is this?
(And though it's certainly priority number one to focus in on your individual recovery, there's still no reason to not keep as a very close second, the opportunistic influence you wield relative to supporting another's.)
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1. Shared interests
First and foremost is recovery. Every Samson guy can relate to that. From there, it's usually humor and deep-seated respect that establish the parallel courses of so many men within Samson Society.
2. The need to run interference against despair
A true Samson guy enters in as a result of his recent confrontation with personal, marriage, vocational, spiritual crisis. Many Samson guys have experienced suicidal thoughts / ideations as a result of this crisis. Tenured Samson men are forever reminded of this starting point since they've lived it themselves. As such, their positive influence isn't necessitated to ignore other guys' pain but to counterbalance it. As a reminder that despair is not and will never be permanent. Hope exists down the road.
3. It's within the very DNA of a Samson Society meeting (format)
Every meeting you choose to attend, your presence positions you to influence, from the very moment you log / step foot in the door. As Christians, carrying the Holy Spirit inside of us, we minister to each other therein. During share time, as we break up into smaller groups, the opportunity for influence becomes more granular / fine-toothed as more individualized opportunity is placed in our lap.
4. Serving another man as his Silas is not unlike being Jiminy Cricket.
Who doesn't want an assigned / appointed friend to come alongside them during arguably the most trying season of their life? Especially if that man has had the resolve to walk out some portion of his own recovery. The very presence of one's Silas can do wonders to positively influence. From there, his listening ear and thoughtful questions only add to the powerful elixir of relational accountability.
5. It feels absolutely natural to open your pocketbook and give back.
Positive influencers are not bashful towards putting their money where their heart is. It's as simple as that.
Tuesday, January 30, 2024
I Love Men, But Regarding Black Men, Am I A Racist For Not Holding Them To The Same Standard / Assuming The Same Potential As I Do With White Men?
My first job (Jackson, MS) working at an architecture firm (I had yet to graduate from MSU architecture school) immediately opened my eyes to the realization that I definitely WAS NOT the only "standout" (weirdo) within humanity. All in all, architects (& their employees) are uniquely observant / opinionated individuals, and I was no exception.
There was an early 30s designer (colleague of mine) who'd no formal architectural training to speak of. This man more or less held the position of marketing / copy editor on behalf of the sole proprietor architect whose name was over the door, yet his involvement therein was only the tip of the iceberg. Though he was a real oddball, his primary talent - laid bare - was his very gifted hand at understanding proportion, scale and color as it applied to most any style of building design. Hence, his input was seen as vital (& it most certainly was) to each and every set of schematics. And that's what ultimately kept him gainfully employed.
This designer wasn't at all unabashed. Though my chagrin teenage self sat in the way, way back of the drafting room, it wasn't unusual for him to make his way to my drawing board - on occasion - in order to chat. I distinctly remember one of those short exchanges having to do with him choosing to harshly rebuke himself for "going nuclear" on a fellow driver earlier that day. In a nutshell, this guy explained to me, in exacting detail, what had gone down relative to him being cutoff whilst returning to the office after lunch. Yet, he went on to admit that this shame-induced self-flagellation actually only occurred in proportion to the humiliation he described feeling upon realizing that the other driver was black.
Outright admitting to buying into this racially stereotypical (less competent) driver-centric aptitude came across as both audacious and outrageous to teen Rob. I was shocked, for I'd never heard of such outspoken (rationalized via moral reverse engineering) bigotry, but whilst looking back, I cannot dismiss how guilty I am today for thinking (and even behaving) along the exact same lines. And most of the time, not even realizing that I'm doing it (until I'm forced to marinate in its outcome / aftermath in lieu of brushing it off).
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Back in November 2023, my wife and I decided it was time to invest in a relatively small renovation project within our small abode. This 1,550 square foot home is +/-23 years old, and as such, it's showing signs of understandable wear and tear. Hence, these type of annual / bi-annual projects have been a priority throughout the past five years or so as we've attempted to stay ahead of Father Time / Murphy.
The interiors showroom that we worked with on some previous R & R projects was called upon likewise this time around. In the end, our focus ended up being to replace peeling / outdated vinyl wallcovering within our laundry room combined with upgrading all of our undercounter light fixtures (laundry room / kitchen).
The latter portion of our scope, due to it being electrical in nature, would be an easy accomplishment for the longstanding electrician we've relied on for years, but the former portion would require some fresh blood. For the last vinyl wallcovering installer we'd utilized (who executed phenomenal workmanship) had recently become disabled due to a back injury.
What to do?
Answer: Rely on a referral from our friends at the local interiors showroom, of course.
What possibly could go wrong?
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Seeing potential in men, particularly young men, is both my gift and default. For I'm an optimist relative to my outlook and always have been (which helps in this regard).
Within Samson Society, I love getting behind men and pushing. With just enough tension to assist them within their individual recovery. I do this via steadfast example / reliable demonstration (friendship) coupled with displaying rock solid interest in their individual story whilst never being hesitant to ask lots of questions.
The 95% of Samson guys are white. Too, the vast majority of men I engage with day-to-day are as well. Despite the fact that Mississippi is heavily populated by blacks (particularly the capital city, Jackson, which we live adjacent to) there're very, very few that orbit within Rob's sphere of influence.
Therefore, the question is as follows: Do I - by default - afford the same "potential outlook" onto black men (specifically young black men) as I do whites (particularly as a Christian)?
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The vinyl wallcovering removal / install laundry room project was eventually calendared for the first week of January 2024. The majority of my girls were slated to be vacationing in the Redneck Riviera during that time (the Primadonna went to Hawaii to "study abroad", but that's another story), and this afforded me the opportunity to manage the expected onsite mess / inconvenience alone (which I was comfortable doing).
Marvin (referred black vinyl wallcovering contractor) seemed adamant about affording himself the opportunity to examine the laundry room in advance of quoting the work (mid-December), but he never actually took the time to do this. Therefore, the first hour of him actually starting the project, he was informing me that he'd need to revise his quote. Keep in mind that I'd gladly coughed up a 10% deposit (based on the original quote) prior to him getting started.
Along with the revised proposal came a revised contract time (extension). Nonetheless, I was undeterred, for all this seemed reasonable to me, circumstances / expectations being what they were.
As the days of this first week of 2024 soldiered on, I'd routinely arrive home in the evening after work to only briefly look into Marvin's workspace (laundry room) out of curiosity. For the small crack in the door provided just enough proof that steady work was being accomplished.
From there, Friday eventually came, upon which he began hanging the new vinyl wallcovering.
When I came home that afternoon, he asked to be paid his final sum, under the guise that he would return Saturday to clean up / address punchlist items. He cited hoping to "get to his bank before it closed" with my final check as he bolted from our abode.
Stupidly, I'd not allowed myself to doubt his intent for I was so ready to be done with having him there day after day (it's important to note that I'd made little to no effort to develop any semblance of a friendship with him).
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One of the first home improvements we made to our abode 23 years ago was adding gutters and downspouts. The geotechnical report strongly recommended that we take immediate action relative to funneling water away from our home's foundation, therefore this was our initial investment therein.
The contractor we hired to do this work failed to complete the punchlist (or even acknowledge it), therefore I literally tracked him down - the very next weekend - at his own home in order to confront him firsthand. As a result of my tenacity, the very next day, he returned to complete his work, exceeding my expectations. I remember feeling not only satisfied but staunchly vindicated for doing this "obligatory moral follow-up".
Keep in mind that this contractor was very, very white (he even had red hair, he was so white), very articulate, and "no doubt" intellectually capable. And yes, I'd worked to develop some semblance of the rudiments of a friendly demeanor with him throughout the tenure of his contract time.
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Where are we at today with Marvin's work within our laundry room?
All of it has to be completely redone. The vinyl he installed must be removed with new wallcovering put in its place. The cleanup work that I had to do within the small space (throughout that following Saturday & Sunday) was extreme. Both the floor, doors, millwork, sink, small countertop were filthy with dried on solvent (wallcovering removal), drywall mud & dust. He exerted zero effort to clean up (though he'd informed me - in passing - that he would certainly do so).
This project was and continues to be an unignorable albatross that we've had to deal with. But it's also given me lots to think about (hence this post) which I'm grateful for.
When my sweet wife returned home (stepping initially into the laundry room from the garage with two of our three daughters), she began to weep. Thankfully, I was at work when this occurred. From there, she immediately began text messaging her husband (me) with high-definition photos of Marvin's shitty workmanship.
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I did send the beginnings of a punchlist to Marvin, but there was no response. And frankly, I didn't expect one. Nor did I take any initiative to track him down in order to hold him accountable. My wife did loop-in the owners of the interiors showroom, and they confirmed that we were one of many unhappy homeowners relative to Marvin's recent incompetency.
Why didn't I make any effort to hold this man accountable?
For the exact same reason my colleague chided himself for "going nuclear" whilst returning to the office from lunch.
Because he was black. And not just black, but Mississippi (stereotypical) black (unfairly lumping them all in together).
If I'm completely honest, I literally DO / DID NOT SEE HIM WITHIN AN EQUAL LIGHT (as I would a white man) regarding potential, value as a human being. In other words, LOST CAUSE is how I'd truthfully adjudicate Marvin. And that is a tough truth to admit to!
Hence, for Rob, it was simply easier to find another vinyl wallcovering contractor (who's white) to fix the below par work Marvin left behind. Cut my losses and move on (only to add one additional prejudice to my black / white scorecard).
My wife has asked me repeatedly, "Why did you pay this guy? Didn't you even take the time to inspect his work?" All I've been able to articulate to her in response is, "From the moment I met him, I made the subconscious decision to hold him to a much lower standard, therefore deciding then and there to simply prioritize enduring regret instead of keeping the bar intact."
Keep in mind too that I'm an architect. Let that settle in for a few minutes. For I couldn't even fall back on my professional credentials relative to overcoming my baked-in bigotry.
Oh, wretched man that I truly am. Color blind I am definitely not. Please pray that I repent from this elevated attitude / outlook.
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