Its a new dawn...

Exciting news all! A certain soloist at my church will no longer be at my church. This means, I can finally be a member of the Praise Team and not deal with all the drama. She will however, still be participating in cantata this year, which so far we haven't been at the same practices, so my nerves are only shot by the one singer who can't find a pitch but God bless her, her heart is in every warbled off-key note.
I guess that's one of the things that always irritated me about the soloist. To me, it always felt like her music was a way of showing off, of being better than the people in the pews, in general, just being fake. Which, due to her song choice always led me to be fake. Because I can't get excited about the same few songs sang at the same plodding tempo. It used to be called a contemporary service, I just wanted to rock the rafters! Now, its a mixed service, whatever that means. Well, maybe it means that our numbers dwindled because the key audience should have been people like me who wanted current music, maybe with a mix of old. Do you want to hear a secret? Some of my favorite songs are the old hymn type songs, put to a modern beat and rhythm. Anyways, the point of this post is to say it is a new day, and I will be glad in it. As Michael Buble sings, "Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life for me... and I'm feeling good."

Morning Traditions

A cold wind
sends silver leaves shimmering,
falling to the frost tipped grass.
The hem of my dress
flutters in the breeze.
I pull my shawl tighter,
the wool warm and soft.
I pass the small garden,
the droopy sunflower stalks
waiting to drop their seeded heads,
while pink kisses their petals
as the sun begins to rise.

Coming over the hill,
I pause.
I shift the metal pail
full of creamy warm milk,
and I watch my breath,
little puffs of steam
circle from my mouth and nose.

Down below is home,
built three generations ago.
The white starched cotton curtains
peek from behind the glass,
framed by weathered whitewashed wood.
The smoke stained sandstone chimney
towers over the golden wood shakes.
As I step into the house’s warmth,
I smell the bacon and coffee
that mother is cooking on the wood stove.

The little ones tumble downstairs,
clothes not pressed and hair disheveled.
Mother and I firmly help,
running the brush through hair
and fixing suspender straps.
Neat and tidy, and finally awake,
the whole family gathers
settling around the table
hungry and ready to break our fast.
Father’s baritone voice echoes
praying for God’s blessing.

Cleaning the table,
I hear mother shoo the children to school.
Pumping the water for the wash,
I hear the familiar hum,
a loud whir as mother spins.
Great-grandmother’s wheel,
still providing for the family.
I realize as I settle on the porch,
these old traditions are home,
and I am needed to pass them on.

School year, new fears

I feel that in every one's eternal struggle to live, we all have a deep need for acceptance. How often do we find ourselves perfecting who we are to simply be noticed by someone? And how much more do we struggle to be noticed and attended to in a positive way?
I find I have been very guilty of this lately. I have always been self-conscious, but normally the last year or two in a school I have found my place within the school community and I bloom and leave some of the awkwardness behind. This year, being my senior year of college, one would think I would be blooming and having fun and surrounded by friends. Yet, I don't feel I am. Instead, I find I've shrunk back from the people I once enjoyed being around, and I constantly think people are saying bad or negative things about me. I realize now, this could not be the case. People don't even care enough to talk about me, even in a negative light.
How self-absorbed am I?
I constantly want to be the center of attention. Although my horoscope says that a Leo normally is, at the same time, when I do find people are paying attention to me, I completely freak out inside and come across as a complete idiot who can't shut up. Which is one side of me. I am an awkward fat freak who can't put three words together that make sense. Which is really sad. Because another side of me is the person who writes and draws beautiful things and who can be fun to be around, if I'm in the right element and if God is smiling on me.
So why do I not feel accepted? Why do I become this freak who withdraws from people? Why can't I always be fun to be around? Why have I pulled away from the people just last spring I enjoyed being around?
I know these are just words of a frustrated person, which make me seem even more awkward and a complete loser, but I guess I'm hoping to answer one of my own questions.
Maybe it is my beliefs that draw me away from people. I know I won't be asked to go to any parties because I do not want to ever drink alcohol. In a city where the festivals celebrate and encourage drinking as a positive lifestyle, I have seen close friends go into rehab, be killed in accidents, been kicked out of school, marriages fall apart, and teachers roll into class drunk because that's the only outlet they have. I am here to tell you, I do not want to be any of those people. People who are only 23 and whose lives are ruined because they were "only having fun", or "coping", what must their existence be like? I never want to get into a place like that. And I know, some people must say I do the same self-nullifying behaviors with food. Yes, I'll admit it, I do stress eat. But I have been working on it, and food is often easier to deal with than alcohol. So, even though it marks me as a weirdo, and a loser in this town, I am going to scream it here on this blog: I AM 21 YEARS OLD AND I HAVE NEVER HAD ALCOHOL. and DAMMIT I am proud of that fact.
I know I am drawing away from people because I don't want to be put down for this fact. And I have lost touch with friends because we can't agree on this subject. I have not picked a popular path, but when have I ever? So currently, I do know why I've shrunk away from people. If I don't talk to them, they won't hate me for my beliefs. But if I don't talk to people, they will think I'm snubbing them or being mean and rude. So I'm stuck. I feel as if I have few friends, when just last spring I thought I had a whole bunch and that my life was on track. Now I don't. But I don't want to compromise that one belief I know I can stick to. Sometimes, I just think its not worth it, any of it. But then, I remember I do have friends who support this view, but sometimes they just seem so far away. Its all fine and good to have someone in another state who supports me, but it sure makes campus lonely.
So I am sorry that I have become reserved once again, I'm not trying to be rude to anyone, and I am so sorry when I become a complete idiot and loser. My insecurities are eating at me again. I will get over it, it just requires patience. Which believe me, takes a very long time to accomplish. Just remember, I'm trying to give you the same patience when you maybe having problems.

Vacation, or Field Trip?

Have I told you about my family vacations? Then buckle up.

The very first thing you should know is that my family does not go on vacation. We go on field trips.

As odd as it might sound, my family is touring museums and educational sites, rather than hitting the pool in the motel. Which is why we're usually a little more tired and cranky then when we left, because we are going to so many places that there is barely any time to breathe.

For example: When I was in elementary school, I was maybe like 8 or 9, we took a three week "vacation" through most of the western half of the US. We did the junior ranger program at 9 national parks and monuments (such as Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon). We also visited two Laura Ingalls sites, traveled into Canada, visited my aunt in Tucson, went into Mexico with her, and visited my great-grandparents homestead in North Dakota. I also did the splits over the Four Corners, which was maybe my greatest personal achievement/memory from that trip. (FYI, and this might be TMI, but I can still do the splits, and tuck my feet behind my head. Just saying...) We learned so much during that trip, and took so many pictures. So now that you know my family's philosophy a little better, I'd like to get on my soap box for a little while and preach about one of the greatest overlooked places for a field trip, Kilbourn City, Wisconsin.

Some of you might be saying, "Kilbourn? Hmm, not quite sure where that is." Others, maybe you do know that Kilbourn now goes by a different name: Wisconsin Dells. Actually, its interesting to note, into the 1930's, the natural area was called the Dells of Wisconsin, and the actual city was still Kilbourn, until the advertising department discovered it was best to just call the area Wisconsin Dells. Another interesting fact, if you are in the downtown dells, if you go back like three or four blocks out of the tourist area, the library, fire department, and post office are all still marked Kilbourn. Which leads me to one of my nit-picky irritations.

When you visit this area, what do you say you visited? Do you say A) The Wisconsin Dells, B) Wisconsin Dells, or C) the Dells? Because to me, these are almost three completely different areas, yet most people tend to use any or all no matter where they went. Let me define in my mind what I picture each of these names meaning.
A) The Wisconsin Dells means you visited both the touristy water parks, shopping, that kind of thing, AND the natural/historical areas, such as going on the boat or duck tours, or visiting H.H. Bennett's studio.

B) Wisconsin Dells is simply the tourist traps and as most of my friends say "the fun stuff".

C) the Dells is the natural area that made Kilbourn famous, through the photography of Henry Hamilton Bennett.

Maybe next time, you'll be a little more careful what you say. Although, I'm probably a little crazy about this. It just bothers me though, that people basically state they visited everything the area has to offer, when instead they stood in lines at a water park, went bowling, and then went to the outlet mall. Guess what? Tomah has a small water park, there's bowling in La Crosse, and I know its not an outlet mall, but we have a mall in Onalaska/La Crosse. I'm sure its probably a little cheaper to do those things here.

I guess one of the reasons I love the area of The Wisconsin Dells, is that just a few miles away are some amazing other historical stops. Such as Baraboo. Baraboo was home to the wintering quarters for the Ringling Brothers' Circus, which is now immortalized in Circus World Museum. It also boasts an International Clown Hall of Fame, and the Al Ringling Theater is only a few hundred seats away from being the first movie palace in the country. Also near Baraboo is the International Crane Foundation, which has a pair of each remaining species of crane in the world all on their grounds. They also are working on the reintroduction/rehabilitation of the Whooping Crane in Wisconsin. Another city of note would be North Freedom, which is home to the Midcontient Railway Museum, which allows patrons to sit back and enjoy the surrounding scenery while aboard rail cars from years gone by.
So, the Wisconsin Dells is an amazing area to learn. Despite the fact the Indian Ceremonials have not taken place in years, the area still calls visitors to step back in time and observe and learn about what a unique geological and historical area this was/still is. So I will get off my soap box dear ones, and leave you with a few pictures from this years excursion to Kilbourn and Baraboo.

Loving "Love Comes Softly"

I have spoken of the "Love Comes Softly" series in previous writings, and how they applied to my life at that particular moment. However, I'd like to share how they have become a huge part of my general life.
The first thing about this series is, no matter if I'm reading the books or watching the movies, it urges me to be a better christian. Many of you know my beliefs about this, how I have issues with my church, how I sometimes slip into doubt especially in times of struggle. Yet when I delve into the world of Marty, and Missie, and Belinda, I am urged to go beyond any troubles I have been having and try to renew my faith. I do try, and like Missie says, "It's alright to stumble", but I hate the fact that I ebb and flow with my troubles. What an everlasting message this series sends though. That God's enduring promise is one day he will take away our tears and our pain. I like that promise; no tears.
The second reason I love this series is it urges me to be a better overall person. Yes, by trying to be a better christian I am also trying to be a better person, yet this series goes beyond this. Marty tells me to see the good in people, even if it's buried deep down. Missie reminds me that to everything, there is a season. Belinda shows me to have courage even when people may look down on me, or tell me I can't. If I could remember all of the little life lessons and embody the spirit of these women, I am sure I would a remarkable woman.
One of the last reasons is just the plot in general. With strong women, who encounter so many troubles, and in the end still can find strength in God, I want to be like them. I love the setting of the old west, and every time I watch a movie, I cry. Which maybe is shameful to admit, but they touch my heart so much. What a blessing this series is. I'll just plain admit it: I love the "Love Comes Softly" Saga.

Undefined

My life is a squiggle,

a dash,

a dot.

A tetrahedron,

a loop.

I refuse to be defined,

ordinary as

a square.

A diamond,

a sphere.

I do not fit,

in math,

a geometric.

An equation,

a shape.

But if I'm not

defined,

a dictionary...

Who am I?

Evil and forgiveness

To quote Glinda,
"Are people born Wicked, or do they have Wickedness thrust upon them?"

This is a question I've been puzzling for some time, due to certain people I've dealt with lately. First, a relative of mine. In February, I said goodbye to her, because I was sick of dealing with her. She has tried to come back into my life, but every time she tries, she fails miserably because its the same problem behavior over and over again. I don't need the snide remarks about what an awful person I am. Trust me, I know it. I know I will never be like her friend's grandson who got busted with drugs, knocked a girl up and flunked out of college within a year. I will never live up to those expectations. As a side note to all of this, we did not spend Easter with her, and it was a nice feeling that I didn't have to be all dressed up and eat like only two pieces of lettuce so I'm not called fat and be harped on for an hour because I'm not married and grilled on what homework projects I'm working on. Instead, I ate brunch with my family and talked and had a nice time. I'm not saying this family member is evil, but she is totally a test on my patience and she often seems mean and cruel. Except to other people. She hates us, it seems, but everyone loves her. I have professors who just love her, and ask about her, and it irks me because I don't see this nice lady that they do. I mean, I didn't invite her to my Teacher Education Ceremony, and as I'm being handed my award, one professor asked where she was. Ummmm, not here. She ruined my graduation, do I really want her here for this? Puh-lease.
If you really want to know how my family and I have been feeling about this, just read this poem my sister wrote. And I present, "The Fire in the Green Chair"
The pain of the words strike my heart.
The look on its face pierces my soul.
"Ignorant bitch," it shouts as I cry,
tear after tear taints my cheeks.
I stumble out of the room,
my father shouting my praises,
to the Satan of my life.
My sister sits quietly, listening,
for my father to set me free.
"Bad company is better than none,"
he screams at the evil spirit.
My mother comforts me,
while the fire burns,
sitting in its green chair.

I think this sums it up nicely. Anyway, to my point about evil, and wickedness. What this person has done to us, could be described as wicked. However, its all how you look at it. And yet, does Jesus not say to love and forgive our enemies? I may be so mad and hurt and confused by what this person has done to me, but is it not in its own way evil of me to not forgive her, to not open my arms to welcome her back, to even have left in the first place? That's the tricky bit about forgiveness. It is so dad-burn hard. So hard to give, when a person is still aching and longing for the hurt to be over, sometimes so hard to accept, when a person has been cut down repeatedly. Just so hard. Its like saying sorry, the little things are blown off with a few simple words, and the big things are avoided because it so hard to humble oneself before another person, to admit a mistake was made. I haven't forgiven her yet, which is wrong, I know, but, I want to mean it when I do, and I've been in a place of hatred for so long, its hard. But, I want to try and fix some of the littler things in my life, even if the people actually never see them, partially because we walked out of each other's lives, and I have no clue what would actually happen if I walked back in and said it to them. But, so people won't be embarrassed by these outpourings of my heart, which will not be said in a sarcastic tone, I will use a nickname that only that person will hopefully know. And no, I'm not trying to be the bigger person, this is simply my diary screaming out loud.

First, Mr. Biscuits, please forgive me for lying. I was actually really mad with you, and really hurt, but I shrugged it off so you would think everything was cool. It isn't, because I think friends should try to talk to each other more than in the summer, and I'm sorry, but that is the only way I know how to get a hold of you, and I don't like writing on people's walls, because then everyone can see it. So please forgive me for that whole mess, and know that I forgive you for unintentionally hurting me, of which I'm sure you had no clue and so it's kind of pointless for me to bring up, but still...
Next, Miss K. Please forgive me for all the crap I said and put you through. Its been almost a year, and I've only seen you once. I don't know if you saw me, but I had no clue what would happen if we talked or made contact. I don't think I want to be friends again, I think we'll never have it together enough to do that. But I'd like us to not be awkward around each other, so that we could be in the same place at the same time without weirding each other out. I'm still not sure of all the stuff I did to hurt you, everything was a little vague, but know that I'm in the process of forgiving you for the hurt you put on me.
Next, Ms. Soloist. Please forgive me for getting soooooooooo angry with you. You push my buttons so quickly, but I should learn how to deal with it. I'm having a really hard time, but I am trying. You really haven't done anything for which I need to forgive you, because I know the problem is only in me, and my quick temper.
Last, my classmates. Please forgive me for all the weird stuff I do. I realize I rarely have a shut up filter on. I am a bumbling bundle of awkwardness, and my social skills are basically nonexistent. I am trying so hard, but I have a hard time connecting with people, and when I do I come on waaaay to strong and turn really creepy and I don't mean to, truly I don't. I realize this happens only after the fact, and it often is so hard to fix it. But know, its all done in good intentions. Forgive me my awkwardness.

So, my point in this jumbled mess. Wickedness and evil happen, and its so easy. But we need to forgive each other, even when it is so very hard to do, and more importantly, we need to ask to be forgiven when we know there's a problem. It takes a lot of heart and guts and it tests the soul and patience so much, but in the end, we are all a little bit better as people. We will never get rid of evil, but maybe we can fix the aftermath.

Imagination

Imagination. Think of how many times each day we give in to imagination, of ours or another's. We slip into a different world each time we listen to our ipod, we watch TV, we read a book, we look at art. sometimes we dive into all of these aspects when we observe say, a musical. And its alright. Sometimes its good to let the world of reality melt away as we fly through the German Blitz, travel the Land of Oz, visit the Gods on Mount Olympus, battle aliens from a futuristic planet, and blow our minds at Woodstock. Its fine to loose oneself in an imaginary world. To have these worlds jump into shows that our brains are working and making wonderful things. But, sometimes, our imaginations get us into trouble. Sometimes, our imaginations keep working and digging and creating theories that originally we did not want think of. And yet, we let ourselves keep coming up with these notions. Thus, things like the Da Vinci Code come into existence. And when we loose our full acceptance and childlike beliefs, we fall even harder into an imaginary world. Now for my little bit on the Da Vinci Code. It is an amazing book and an alright movie. A lot of it is fiction, such as traveling through Europe to crack this code. However, I don't think we should dismiss it all as fiction. Because if you look at other documents and historical societies, things don't line up either way to prove if there is a royal bloodline or not. I don't think we can truly know, unless we invent time travel in our lifetimes. We want to know, but we can't really know. Its a puzzle. Here's the thing, imagination can create reasonable doubt, which in court can let you out as not guilty, but in faith and religion, can dig you into a pit you don't necessarily want to be in. Because you want to be working out the puzzle, want to wrap your mind around it, and yet, you want to have that faith you've always had. Imagination can create a black hole, because if what you've believed since infancy is possibly wrong, what else is wrong; is the world really as you viewed it, or is your reality being sucked into nothingness? So be wary of imagination. Its alright to sometimes slip into an imaginary world, but don't ever let something come between you and what you believe. (Unless its a well documented historical event, such as those after say, 1700 AD. Because if you believe England did not finally let its American colonies form into its own nation, you must have read "Year of the Hangman" at a very young age and then fell asleep in every history class) It will be hard, and people might think we are crazy, but nothing compares to our faith. I'm sure heaven will be better than anything our tiny imaginations could ever think of.

A thought for today...

"If He who in Himself can lack nothing chooses to need us, it is because we need to be needed"

~C.S. Lewis

100

This is my 100th post! Yay!

I contemplated what do to in this post for quite some time. I felt really the only thing to do is say thank you, to my few followers, 100 times, in as many ways as I can.

Merci, Thank you, Mahalo, Thank you, Grazie, Thank you, Tak, Thank you, Blagodaria, Thank you!

Danke, Thank you, Toda, Thank you, Gratias ago, Thank you, Go raibh maith agat, Thank you, Do jeh, Thank you!

Shukran, Thank you, Kamsah hamnida, Thank you, Kiitos, Thank you, Takk, Thank you, Motashakkeram, Thank you!

Obrigada, Thank you, Tapadh leibh, Thank you, Dakujem, Thank you, Gracias, Thank you, Asante, Thank you!

Tack, Thank you, Salamat po, Thank you, Kop khun kha, Thank you, Dank u wel, Thank you, Tesekkur ederim, Thank you!

Diakuiu, Thank you, Diolch, Thank you, A dank, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

Thanks, Thanks, Thanks, Thanks, Thanks, Thanks, Thanks, Thanks, Thanks, Thanks!

Merci, Gracias, Danke, Mahalo, Thank you, Grazie, Tak, Toda, Asante, Thank you!

(And now its time for the personal thank yous)

Thank you Tess. Thank you Brian. Thank you Alana. Thank you Bonnie. Thank you Julia. Thank you Holly. Thank you Mom. Thank you Dad. Thank you my many inspirations. Thank you God. Without all of you people, I never would have started blogging, I never would have had any ideas, I never would have had any talent, and I would never have had anyone read this. So really, without all of you, this blog would never have existed. Just something to think about.

Peace, Augusta

Death in Three's

Three.

Everyone says death comes in three.
I guess it did.

Goodbye,
great uncle, uncle and cousin.

Great uncle,
you whipped my tushie at cards,
and you loved root beer floats,
and then cancer came.
You endured a great deal,
could barely swallow,
but you could always manage
to play another hand of cribbage.

Uncle,
I barely knew you,
living so far away,
and cancer came for you too.
Grandma says its a good thing,
that you've died,
I know its because of the pain
but I hate the way she says it.

Cousin,
I never knew you at all,
you were a promise to come,
and you died before you were born.
I was all ready to knit
a special hat just for you.
You were loved
while you were briefly here.

Death may come quickly in threes,
but closure comes slowly,

at least for me.

Poetry

I've learned something about poetry:
if its free-flow, it makes no sense, except to the author, and the teacher who is shoving it down your throat.
Now, if it has a pattern, its completely different. Really, how much more do we understand the poetry of Shakespeare, simply because he follows the pattern of a sonnet.

I think though that we need to take another look at poetry. It is obviously a great way to spurt out one's feelings, however it does not have to mean anything. Hear that, English teachers? Poetry doesn't have to mean anything!!!

As long as you like it, like the story, or the flow, or the rhythm, it doesn't have to mean anything such as the plight of the author, or the social commentary of the author's life. It could just be a nice story with a great rhyme scheme.
So if I post a poem, it is simply a bursting forth of my emotion, blooming on the page. Its not a commentary on the inner struggle of my non-Catholic self in a Catholic world (take that every English teacher I've had for Shakespeare). Its just a great way for me to express myself without having to say "I feel miserable. Please, take my heart and grind it into hamburger. I just need a hug, Lord."
Isn't poetry more beautiful than that?

I thought so.

Challenge Break

Alright.
So I haven't posted a book from the Bible lately.
I'm sorry. To you, to myself.

I have been reading. Its just been going really slowly, especially with the whole "I live at grandma's, oh wait, nope, I live at home, hold it, I live at grandma's" and now the circumstance is that I live at home, but my Bible is at grandma's and I just haven't been brave enough to go get my Bible. I'd find an online version, except I can't really remember where I am and I don't want to have to read the whole thing over.

So I haven't given up on my challenge. Its just taking a break while I try to reorganize my life, which surprisingly fits in seven reusable shopping bags and my purse. Pretty pathetic, but its taking forever to get it all back in place. So hopefully within this next week, I'll have a new post. As long as I can get my Bible.
Hang tight followers, we'll make it, eventually.

In time

Here am I.

I stand and dream of what I can do,
but I can't move past my hurdles.

My heart beats within my chest,
trying to avoid the clawing pain, like grasping hands,
I can't breathe.

His holy face comes into view,
and still I can't move.

I cling to my little hopes,
I draw enough breath and sing,
praises and prayer ringing
in the silence of my world.
The song pulls out my last gasp of air,
I stumble and crumble to my knees.

I focus on the face,
and more swirl into sight,
my parents,
my friends,
my future self.

"You will pull through,
your dreams aren't that far,
we love you,
we're praying for you,
He loves you,
and He hears your prayers"

The air comes rushing in,
but my dreams rush out.
When may I push my hindrances aside?
When will my dreams and reality
live in harmony in my life?
When will I live a life that is mine?
When? I cry out, I scream out, When?

Panting for air,
I see the face, crying too.
"In time," He says,
and I realize,
I made it past one of the obstacles in my path.
I just need help and hope.

Here am I.

I stand and dream of what I can do,
but with help and prayer,
I'll get there,
in time.