Practice What You Preach
Let’s get this out of the way. I don’t like to practice, and I rarely preach. I hate it when people preach to me, and I’m sure they would prefer I keep my preaching to myself. I don’t even like practicing. I never liked practicing—not my piano, not my script, not my letters, not my speeches. So, there you have it. The King said, “Too many notes,” when he heard Mozart. I say, “Too many experts,” when I hear someone trying to convince me of something, particularly if I’m not interested in it.
In the past year, people have preached to me about topics ranging from dental care to eating lentils. When I see people climbing the steps to their soapboxes, I just want to wash my hands of the whole thing.
I remember when my teen-age daughter used to say that I yelled at her. I may have raised my voice once or twice, but the incidences to which she was referring were not among those. Her definition of “yelling” was contradicting anything she didn’t believe or like. It took me a long time to figure that out, as I had a screaming mother, and I swore I would never yell at my kids. Right.
So what do you preach? Can we define “preach?” I’m sure if we asked five people, we would get five different answers. Preaching, to me, is when someone figures I’m not smart enough to get it the first time, so they need to bang me over the head with it citing umpteen examples and repeating themselves in different tones of voice. I’m like the teenager. Once I hear the first word of the message, my ears close, and I shut down. The “listening” look is on my face, but my thoughts are on my next blog or my grocery list.
So what do you like to practice? Would you preach about it? Just askin’.