I've been wanting to start a blog for a long time. I used to find writing very cathartic when I was younger, and as life gets busier and more hectic, I have longed for an outlet for some of that stress. But when you go to start a blog, they want you to name it... who knew? So I had to come up with a name, and I wanted it to be clever but about me, and if possible, give a little insight into who I am.
Which begs yet a new question, "who am I?" There are several different directions that question takes my mind... what I do for a living, what my past adds up to explain about where I am today: former Marine, husband, American, Christ-follower, son, dimwit, former soldier, student, college graduate, Iraq campaign veteran... so much to choose from, how do you pick?
Of all the things I have been, and am, and want to be, one of the most enjoyable roles I've ever been blessed with is "Dad." However, one thing my experiences and personality have come to develop in me is a strong urge to tell people "there are only a couple of people's opinions in this world that matter, and yours isn't one of them." Now while I seldom actually SAY this to people, it is how I feel about a lot of things.
So one day we were at a church function, and I was wearing flip flops, and one of the ladies in our group looked at my feet and pointed as she exclaimed "YOU HAVE BLUE TOENAILS!" At the time, my daughter was about 2 1/2, and she had thought it would be fun to paint daddy's nails. The only caveat I gave was "the only color you can use is blue." She thought it was great, and being 2 1/2, even with her mother's help, had managed to paint most of my toes along with the nails. When I explained to my bewildered friend that I wanted my little girl to grow up someday to realize that her dad cared more about her happiness than the opinions of other people, her reply was simply: "You are the best dad in the world!"
Now while I don't necessarily agree with her assessment, I do feel like I try really hard to be the best dad I can be. The home I grew up in provided mostly examples of what not to do, but I never doubted that my dad cared for me, even when he screwed up. He still tries to this day to show me that in his own unique way, as I am sure I will always try to do for my girl.
"Blue toenails" also help remind me of God's love for all of us. That he loves us enough to do the goofiest thing I can imagine, sending his Son to die on a cross on my behalf. If that isn't head-over-heels love, I don't know what is. And I don't want anyone reading this to think I have some self-serving-holier-than-thou complex, because that simply isn't true. What I DO have is a tremendous awe for a God that loves me that much, and a daily example from my daughter just how much He really does care and wants good things for me, the same way I do for her. She's never done a single thing to earn my love, and she never will, and it is the same with God's love for me. I'm grateful for salvation through the grace and mercy of Jesus' sacrifice and hope to help others find that same path.
