Pruetts.com

I upgraded WordPress, and haven’t figured out how to import all of the entries that are here. However, if you click over to www.pruetts.com/jeff/, you can read about all the interesting things I have to say these days.

Eventually I’ll write some kind of script that redirects automatically. For now, click here to see Jeff Pruett’s new Blog.

Oh yeah, Kristen has a new Blog, too.

Thanks,
Jeff.

We all have a tendency to think that we’re pretty decent people.  When we’re feeling honest we’ll admit that we have a few, mostly minor, flaws - no quirks, flaws is too strong - that we’re not too proud of.  But for the most part, we’re still decent, and we’re able to compensate with our strengths to minimize the impact of these “quirks.” 

Then one day something changes - a crack appears in the fascade of our decent personal image that we hold so dear.  We say something we didn’t mean to say, or explode with rage at the worst possible moment, or become insanely jealous over a small oversight.  We realize that we aren’t as great as we’d like to think - in fact, we’re worried that there are more cracks than we really know. 

Often we decide to patch the crack instead of removing the fascade.  We rationalized that our flaw is not as big as our college roommate’s, or our co-worker’s, or whoever else we can find who is worse off.  We tell ourselves that it was just a one time slip, not really representative of any character issues.  In fact, it was a minor slip at that.  We convince ourselves that we can manage the situation.  Then the crack comes back - often accompanied by tiny hairline cracks that are beginning to grow.

I was confronted with a crack in my fascade yesterday.  I won’t go into the details - I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about a small crack when I know it is only the beginning.  My Dad always said God gives us kids to grow US up.  Maybe that’s what is happening.  I like to think God sees me as a work in progress - and removing the fascade, not just patching it, is another step in the refinement of my character.  Hopefully I can remain honest about it - and resist the urge to cover it up.  It is tempting to try to appear better than I really am, but I know I need to let go of the fascade and rest in God’s refinement process.

Isaac’s Second Week has been filled with changes. He is sleeping more at night, but still getting up to be changed and fed at least twice. His umbilical cord fell off yesterday, so he’s got a pretty normal belly button now.

The most fun has been to see him use his arms more and more. He’s able to stretch out his arms with more control when he yawns. He sometimes rubs his eyes when he’s waking up, and he’ll even pull his pacifier out and put it back in. I’m not sure the pacifier trick is on purpose yet, but he’s certainly changing fast.

Here are some pictures from the past few days:

Our good friends Shawn and Cindy came to see Isaac

Isaac has the joy of two grandmothers living in town who love him deeply

I know pre-teen midriffs are all the rage these days, but this is actually a shot of Isaac’s belly button just after the umbilical cord fell off.

We spent a wonderful evening in Santa Barbara Thursday night. Kristen and I joined my folks and two good friends, Warren and Gloria, for dinner and a great concert.

We went to dinner at Fresco’s, a small cafe in the Five Points shopping center. It was one of Kristen and I’s favorite places to eat during our four years in SB, and it did not disappoint this time! Everyone had a great meal, and then we all had amazing desserts. I had a tiramisu that was unbelievable.

After dinner we drove to UCSB. The concert was in one of the campus’ bigger concert halls, Campbell Hall. We arrived a little early, so I was able to show everyone around the campus a little bit. It was amazing how much has changed already - I think there were at least three new buildings! But for the most part the campus is still very familiar and feels a bit like home.

Keb Mo was the main event, however, and once the concert started, we were all captivated by his performance. The concert hall seats maybe 600 people, though that could be generous, so it was a very intimate setting. Keb came out with his guitar and harmonica and played his unique style of contemporary blues. His joy for life and his great sense of humor just bubbled over the audience. He had everyone laughing several times during the night, and interacted with the crowd in a very real and personal way.

After the concert was over, I was amazed to see that a quick two hours had passed. Everyone in our group agreed that it was one of the best concerts we’d ever enjoyed. I’ll be certain to be on the look out for the next Keb Mo sighting - and believe me - it will take a lot to keep me from being there.

I was recently introduced to a simple puzzle-game that is easy to learn but always a challenge. The game is called SuDoku and is apparently a huge hit in Asia.

The basics of the game are simple. Start with a grid of size 9x9 with several numbers populated in each box. The object is to insert the numbers in the empty boxes to satisfy only one condition: each row, column and 3x3 box must contain the digits 1 through 9 exactly once.

The idea is simple. The execution can be a bit challenging. A new one comes out each day, of varying difficulty. Give it a try. I bet you get hooked.

I was in work early today and was sitting so still that the motion detector thought it was time to turn the lights off. The sad thing is it happened at least three times while I was working. Guess it is a signal that I should move around more often when I’m working…

I don’t know if you’ve seen the new Chevy Impala commercial with all of the antelope surrounding a car, but I had a similar experience this morning as I walked out of my front door to head to work.

I don’t usually leave as early as I did today - it was just a few minutes before six when I left for work - but as I stepped out of my front door and began walking toward my truck, I was surprised to see three large deer staring at me. They were on a small patch of grass about 20 feet by 20 feet just outside our home between me and where I parked my truck. I imagine they were eating the grass and were more startled than I was, but I jingled my keys to let them know I was coming their way. They took a couple of steps backward and kept watching me. Then I began walking toward them, and toward my truck. They backed away and up the slope behind our parking lot where they watched me drive away.

I think what surprised me most was how close they let me get before they ran off. I think if I hadn’t made noise they’d have stayed even longer - I wonder if they are too tame or if they were just that hungry?

I was just about to turn out the lights downstairs and crawl into bed when the phone rang. I answered, figuring it was one of my friends calling to see if I was still awake.

“Hello?” Pause.

“Hello?” Great, a telemarketer, I thought. What telemarketer calls after 9:30 p.m. on a week night?

And then a machine came on. “This is a collect call from …” The guy said his name. “at the Santa Barbara County Jail.”

I almost fell down laughing. I hung up, and made a mental note. Memorize Mom’s phone number in case you have only one phone call some day. I’d hate to blow my one call on a wrong number. Wow.

I joined my graduating class from Righetti High School for our ten-year reunion this weekend. We had a dinner on Saturday night at the Radison, and then had a picnic on Sunday afternoon with all of the kids of the kids we graduated with.

Kristen and I were high school sweethearts, so it was nice for us to both know a lot of people at the two gatherings. I can only imagine how the spouses of other classmates felt - not knowing anyone, and being stuck with playing wingman for the evening.

It is amazing to me the pressure that is unspoken to arrive at a reunion with an incredible success story to tell. I noticed in the weeks leading up to this weekend I would think through the highlights of the past ten years and consciously evaluated which to share and which to leave out. I battled with building myself up too much, yet being fair to all that God has brought me through.

I know I am not alone in sensing this pressure - three guys who were good friends in high school arrived with fictitious stories of their pasts. One claimed to be a corn farmer in Illinois, each time he told the story his “past” got more and more outrageous. We had a good laugh over it, but I think the real tragedy is that so many are truly stuck in their past. It was amazing to see how many people had not changed in the ten years that have gone by. So many seemed stuck in the track they had chosen (or maybe drifted into) while in high school.

The true highlight for me was re-connecting with two guys who had been acquaintances, and always were nice to hang around with. One is recently married, but more remarkable, is now involved in a local church and obviously changing as he grows more in his relationship with God. The other has had some ups and downs with church - which while unfortunate is inevitable as long as people are in the building - but really seems to have a heart for God and to serve him as best he can. I would not have said either of these guys were Christians when we were in high school. Perhaps they were as I was in junior high, they believed but their lives didn’t show it.

All in all I’m glad we went to the reunion. I wished I could have seen more of my friends and that there had been a bit better turnout. Hopefully at the twenty year reunion there will be even more highlights!

Have you ever met someone who couldn’t stop talking about themselves? And they had nothing interesting to say?

Yeah. Those are fun people.