If You Want My Opinion...

Just ask Jason and he'll tell you - I have an opinion about everything. So much so that I once even considered writing a book about nothing but my opinions. From politics to what brand of toilet paper works best, I would cover all the ins and outs. That was until I came to my senses and realized what an arrogant idea it was and that no one would care enough to buy it in the first place.

I'm always curious as to why a complete stranger would stop and ask for my opinion on which color of shirt her son would like best. Umm...why does it really matter what I think? But I always give an answer and feel a surprising sense of ownership about it. Almost as if she didn't go with my choice, she would be making a huge mistake and her son would be cheated out of looking his best. This all seems so silly to be but it does lead me to wonder what is an "opinion" anyway?

The dictionary defines it as "a belief or judgment that rests on grounds insufficient to produce complete certainty." Here is where it all breaks down. Opinion means nothing. Nothing! Anything you can not say with complete certainty should not be given much relevance in our society. So why are there hundreds of TV shows, radio programs, magazine and newspapers dedicated to nothing but a bunch of opinions? Everybody is out to influence somebody with their opinion on the issues of the day.

That's where an opinion can become a menace. When we start to believe ourselves so much that opinion becomes blurred with fact. I'm a black and white thinker, shades of gray leave me feeling vulnerable. In a world beginning to put it's faith in relativism, I have a hunger for absolutes. But there's only one place to find this - God. His word is the way to find real truth - something that really matters.

I've started to learn - slowly- that the things I can feel so impassioned about, fight so strongly for, get so bent out of shape over, might ultimately mean nothing. That's not an easy thing for me, but it does help me understand the value of putting my efforts towards things that do matter, that do have eternal value, that change our world for the better, that transform or save a live, that preserve our heritage of faith.

So maybe instead of writing a letter to the newspaper protesting the treatment of Republican candidates or calling Frisco city hall about the timing of street lights, I'll write to congress about keeping the Ten Commandments posted in the court houses or emailing a new station in thanks for a positive story they aired about keeping Christ in Christmas.

For the sake of having something to say on this blog, I won't keep all my meaningless opinions to myself. So which toilet paper is best? Glad you asked...the cheapest!

Thoughts of Autumn

Pumpkins, hey rides, bonfires, hot apple cider, mums - Christmas may be "the most wonderful time of the year" but for me, autumn runs a very close second. My birthday is in October so it's already got one merit in its favor. There is just something about this season that causes me to get lost in wistful nostalgia.

The kaleidoscope of warm colors that dress the landscapes, the smell of cotton candy and funnel cakes at the fair, the sounds of whistles, cheers and marching bands at college football games, the cozy comfort of your favorite knit sweater, the cool breeze that blows the scent of chimney smoke passed your nose - it's all such a welcome relief from the blistering heat of summer.

Growing up, I recall it being a very raining season. For several years in a row I saw a rainbow on my birthday. It was a sweet sign to me that God was celebrating the day too. I also remember long Saturday afternoons raking up endless piles of leaves with my dad. At the end of the day he would toss me and my sister into the piles and let us burrow our way through them. I would often go out into the yard just to hunt for the most brilliantly colored leaves. I was fascinated by them.

The older I get, the more moved I become by autumn's melancholy persuasion. For me, it's a time of reflection over the year that's quickly coming to an end and a time of anticipation for the wonderful memories we'll be making over the holidays to come. I don't know if it's because Thanksgiving is in the fall or if it's just happens to be observed at the perfect time, but thankfulness seems to embody the sentiment of the season. I certainly have an abundant harvest of things to be thankful for this year.

Fall brings to me a sense of connectedness to God - as if He's saying Come and cuddle up in the palm of my hand. I'll hold you and keep you through whatever may come. In many ways fall is an ending and a beginning - it brings a bit of sadness and a lot of joy -a bittersweet time of year. That's what autumn is for me. The only drawback I know of is the loss of a few extra hours of day light, but I guess it's worth the trade off.

What Tammy Taught Me

She was an awkward girl, to put it mildly. Average height, for an eighth grader, her pear-shaped frame was accented by legs that reminded me of baseball bats; they had practically no shape as they narrowed their way down into what looked to be the latest in granny style shoes. Her long, greasy hair and coke-bottle glasses only sealed the deal for Tammy as your stereo typical "total dork".

It was obvious she was painfully aware of her title as she hardly ever uttered a word to anyone in our class. Her only friend, that I knew of, was an equally homely girl who was a few grades above her. I never considered myself to be the kind of person who would judge someone according to their appearance, but I wouldn't want to be seen talking to her either. I had my own insecurities that kept me from forging any kind of friendship with Tammy.

Boys will be boys and eighth grade boys have got to be the worst. Tammy never stood a chance. I don't remember a day going by when her books weren't knocked off her desk or the back of her chair wasn't kicked or something unkind wasn't said to her. She would try her best to defend herself but even that she couldn't do very proficiently. I always felt bad for her but never enough to say or do anything about it. Even as a Christian in a Christian school, my concern over my reputation as one of the "cool" kids outweighed my concern for Tammy as a human being.

It was the middle of Thanksgiving break when I got a phone call from a fellow classmate, Mike. The somber tone of his voice told me this wasn't a social call. "Tammy was on the way to her grandmother's house for Thanksgiving with her parents and brother" he said "when their car slid off the road and flipped, ejecting Tammy then landing on her. She's dead, Tammy's dead."

As his words came across the phone line, my mind played out the scenario in vivid detail. I saw her mother holding her in her arms, stoking her long blond hair and crying out for her baby; her father, trying desperately to free her from under the car, but only dropping into the snow in exhaustion and in surrender. My only solace was knowing that she slipped from one pair of loving arms into another.

They say that hindsight is 20/20. If I could have gone back, I would have. If only I would have known. If only we would have known. The truth was that Tammy, as unlovely as she seemed to us, was very loved by her Creator. He knit her together in her mother's womb. He intricately wove His glory into every fiber of her being and fashioned her into His majestic image. He knew her, he chose her, he loved her. He made her just who she needed to be - fearfully and wonderfully made.

Our entire class went to Tammy's funeral. The boys who had tormented her were there; now tormented with the guilt they would probably never be able to escape. They didn't get the chance to make amends and fix the cracks they caused in Tammy's broken heart. I was there and had a bit of guilt of my own, not for what I did but for what I didn't do.

We are all so quick to judge a book by its cover, to determine who does and who doesn't deserve our time and attention. But what Tammy taught me is that every person on this planet - red, yellow, black, white or purple, for that matter - is a person of value, a person of great worth because they were lovingly created by the hands of God. I think all of us have known a Tammy or two - I hope that someday, when my children meet their "Tammy", that they will be able to see what a true beauty she is.

The lyrics to a song I wrote:

Tammy Tell Me True

Your momma knew you were beautiful
with the bluest eyes she'd ever seen
Too bad we didn't see it
You know kids can be so mean

We only saw our differences
So much for the golden rule
Even if we didn't mean it
You know kids can be so cruel

Tammy tell me true
How bad did those words hurt you
Tell me how they made you feel
Did those wounds ever really heal
So awkward, so shy
Your daddy held you when you cried
You asked why, oh why...why

Was it really worth the hurt we caused
to get the crowd to laugh
No we can't fix the damage done
No we can't take back the past

The shocking news that you were gone
Hit like a ton of lead
It's too late to learn a lesson
When I'm sorry can't be said

Tammy tell me true
How bad did those words hurt you
Tell me how they made you feel
Did those wounds ever really heal
So awkward, so shy
Your daddy held you when you died
I ask why, oh why...why