Being a Pundit

When you read the title of this post I bet you thought,

"What on EARTH is a pundit?"

The Free Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines a pundit as:

A person who gives opinions in an authoritative manner usually through the mass media: critic.

Those of you who are on Facebook have encountered a pundit; you know, those who opine about politics, religion, finances...

It seems like most folks who have access to any form of social media feel they know more than most when it comes to opinions. No matter if these people have any experience or education in these particular areas; they feel they have the right to express themselves freely (they often cite the Constitution as if they helped write it).

Personally, I get irritated when I'm reading a pleasant little feel-good article about someones' pet llama who rescues them from a burning building. Then when I scroll down to view the comments someone ALWAYS jumps in with a stupid job ad, a rude comment about a political party, or a nasty jab at someone elses' comments.

It makes me want to demand proof of their educational background. Are they political science graduates? Life-long politicians' kids? Are they stunningly slender due to a magic diet pill or doctors who've spent years learning about metabolism? Are they trained behaviorists who know all about llamas?

I tend to think most of the nasty ones are/were bullies in grade school.

But to be honest, I'm guilty of being a pundit myself. About lots of things. Without credibility to make me an expert.

I give my opinion about decorating. Clothing and hair. Whether the recipe needs more salt. Whether dear hubby should use a certain route when driving. Whether the preacher used enough Scripture in last weeks' sermon.

I get into trouble when I read up and study something, amass every bit of information about it, and never experience it myself. I could use my tendency to read cookbooks as a prime example.

For instance, I want to try to ski. Those of you who have read past blogs understand how foolish this desire is since I can't even stand on a flat, solid surface without falling down.

But I still want to try it. So I've read up on it, watched videos, talked about it to those who have skiied. You'd think I was an expert except for one thing.

I've never done it.

My credibility as a pundit crashes and burns on the subject of skiing.

Here's another example: Someone you know isn't living with integrity. They just can't seem to get it right. You know they need to align themselves with godly people, immerse themselves in church and study the Bible. You KNOW this is the right thing to do.

This knowledge should make you an expert/pundit except for one thing:

You haven't gone to church for months, don't know where your Bible is, and are more comfortable with the bar crowd than the church crowd.

Here's what I'm getting at:

If you want to be a pundit, you'd better make very sure you have action to back up your words. If you still want to expound and expand upon your opinion, DO something to make your words credible. Otherwise, keep your opinion/thoughts to yourself lest you become yet another voice that is all sound and no substance.

And that's my expert opinion.

Big Mistake-Big Forgiveness

I've got this puppy, see? His name is Teddy.

He's a floppy, clumsy, adorable mess of fur and slobber.

When I'm not looking he sneaks up to me and sits on my feet or lays down behind my chair. He doesn't like to be without his hoomans.

I'm humbled by his unwavering trust and pure joy in being with us.

Said humility was never so great as when housetraining this canine.

Teddy seemed to pick certain places to 'express himself.' Not one to be haphazard about his choice of pooping places, he would secretly secrete in a secret setting.

We tried the newfangled method of gently coaxing him outside and scolding him in love. We tried the sitting outside with him after a big meal and waiting for the 'end result.'

But no matter what we did, he still seemed to have this favorite spot to squat. Namely, under my desk in my home office. It was frustrating and I was sooo over this ball of cuteness thinking our carpet was his latrine.

And he always looked so innocent when I'd scold him; those big doggy eyes tried to melt my heart but I was unmoved...almost.

But one day I'd had enough. I found another jewel under the desk and decided to go all old school on the mutt.

I grabbed him by the collar, drug him into the office and rubbed his nose in the offending grossness. Then I pushed him outside to think about it for a while.

He was lucky I didn't ask him for an essay on the topic, "Why I shouldn't poop on Mommy's carpet."

So although I felt bad about the rough treatment I decided I'd done what I had to do. While Teddy was outside I went back to my office to continue working.

As I sat there, I noticed a strange sound and an even stranger aroma. I sniffed a sniff I'd hoped I'd never sniff again.

I was beyond mad. How stupid IS this dog? I slowly turned around to catch him in the act. With his pants down, as it were.

Except it weren't him.

It was our cat Shashe, who was obviously making a statement about us moving her litter box out to the garage. She looked at me and I looked at her.

And she ran.

But I felt sick. Not because of the offense; heck, I've had children and was no stranger to icky messes.

No, I felt sick because I had unjustly punished Teddy for what Shashe had done. I'd rubbed his nose in a substance that was not his, spanked him for it, yelled at him and pushed him outside.

I could barely look at him. How do you apologize to a dog? I mean, you can't take him out for a soda. You can't buy him an ipod or a skateboard. How could I make it up to him for being so unfair? I forced myself to walk outside to try to comfort Teddy, and to comfort myself.

He was looking at me. His head was cocked in curiousity and concern. For me.
As I walked up to him his tail began wagging, slowly at first, but then furously as he realized I was coming up to pet him and hold him.

I could see immediately that he held no grudges for being spanked. His thoughts and focus was on ME and how much fun he wanted to have with ME.
I knew right then I had experienced big forgiveness.

Let me challenge you with my story. Think about your hurt and anger when things don't go the way they should and you are treated unfairly. Try to consider that all the facts aren't revealed, that the truth will be discovered in time.

Oh,and never trust a cat.