Of All the Things I've Ever Lost...

Grandma had a very unique magnet which read "Of all the things I ever lost, I miss my mind the most." Many things in my grandparents home were unique and special; their wood-burning stove, twisting green carpeted stairs, the little hole in one of the bedrooms beneath the crib where you could see and speak to whoever was in the living room. The front and back porches, the bird houses, the vegetable gardens, the covered spot for a picnic table, the pictures of my uncles and my mother as children, the tree that was just perfect for climbing, the rail road tracks that could shake the whole house when a train went by, the clip clop of the Amish (or was it Mennonite?) black buggies passing by. And then there was Grandpa's greenhouse where he put his grandchildren to work preparing soil, transplanting, or in the case of my brother, using power tools at a very young age. Grandma was sure to have some cookies and juice at our break time, and we would have our big meal at lunch time. I had enough leisure time to reread a Lori Wick series every year, peruse several other interesting books, and to explore around the area... I remember a very interesting cemetery nearby. My favourite part of the week other than receiving my wages, which might have been equally exciting, was when Grandpa took us to the used bookstore and we could pick out five books. That's where I got my copy of Gone With the Wind, my own copy of Little Women, and some interesting comic books. Every year my grandparents would think of some kind of outing we would probably enjoy... Boblo (sp?) Island is the one I recall most vividly.

So of all things I have ever lost the things I miss the most are:

1. My child-like sense of wonder and awe

2. My innocence and steadfast belief in the good motives of others

3. My compassion in which I can enter into the pain someone else is feeling

4. My trust that doesn't need all the answers to be able to relax in the embrace of love.

5. My grandparents themselves including my Opa, and Grandma and Grandpa

6. My confidence that if I try my best, things are going to work out.

7. My sense of purity in thought, emotions, and actions. To compare myself to a stream, I would say the water is somewhat stagnant, murky, and slow moving and manifestly polluted by the foam on the sides of the banks.

Why I loved Freida and spell her name my own way

Freida was really my cat because I took care of her for three weeks while my family was on vacation. Freida was a beautiful cat with long and luxurious fur, much like a wonderful coat. She was a proud cat, and very mean to strangers. But I think this is because Freida realized she was special and beautiful and she belonged in this house.

Actually Freida was given to us because someone else was allergic to her. The problem was she was not at all inviting to strangers. She was a territorial cat who knew she belonged here, but I think her vision was also very poor. Naturally she responded to voices and she probably recognized voices that she knew. The thing with Freida is that she was a little overweight from being overfed, because really she would eat whatever she was given and meow for more. And if you gave her a lot of food she would just eat it all right then. Freida just didn't understand she would be fed again.

And this is the tragedy: Freida couldn't belong in a house where strangers (to her) were coming and going and this where she felt she belonged and in a perfect world she could have stayed. But really when grandchildren are coming to visit, Freida can't be in this house. The grandchildren will only be here for a brief time and they are the most important to this family. We care more about them than about a cat who feels she belongs, but can't be comfortable with any one she doesn't know.

Freida was definitely curious about outside the house, but she only wanted to go out when there was snow, though she never remembered that she actually didn't like the cold. The point is that I loved Freida, I realized I wanted to care for her, but she didn't work in our house. She was given another chance to live somewhere else, but I hope someone who realizes how beautiful she is is the one caring for her now. Because she is a strong aristocratic cat and she needs to belong somewhere where she can be the priority and some one has the patience to train her and speak to her. I doubt Freida is still alive, but she is after all a cat and people are the ones who matter the most to me.

Freida was actually named after a cute character in a children's book named Frieda Fuzzypaws. This character wanted the cookies baking in the oven, but didn't want to eat her two beans that she was supposed to. I guess I am realizing the irony of this story. I would laugh out loud, but I am probably just bemused.

Worlds Apart by Jars of Clay

I'm the only one to blame for this
Somehow it all adds up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icarus I collide
With a world I try so hard
To leave behind
To rid myself of all but love
To give and die
To turn away and not become
Another nail to pierce the skin of one who loves
More deeply than the oceans, more abundant than the tears
Of a world embracing every heartache
Can I be the one to sacrifice
Or grip the spear and watch
The blood and water flow
To love you, take my world apart
To need you, I am on my knees
To love you, take my world apart
To need you, broken on my knees
All said and done I stand alone
Amongst remains of a life I should not own
It takes all I am to believe
In the mercy that covers me
Did you really have to die for me?
All I am for all you are
Because what I need
And what I believe are worlds apart, and I pray
To love you, take my world apart
To need you, I am on my knees
To love you, take my world apart
To need you, broken on my knees, on my knees
I look beyond the empty cross
Forgetting what my life has cost
And wipe away the crimson stains
And dull the nails that still remains
More and more I need you now
I owe you more each passing hour
The battle between grace and pride
I gave up not so long ago
So steal my heart and take the pain
And wash the feet and cleanse my pride
Take the selfish, take the weak
And all the things I cannot hide
Take the beauty, take my tears
The sin-soaked heart and make it yours
Take my world all apart
Take it now, take it now
And serve the ones that I despise
Speak the words I can't deny
Watch the world I used to love
Fall to dust and thrown away
I look beyond the empty cross
Forgetting what my life has cost
So wipe away the crimson stains
And dull the nails that still remain
Steal my heart and take the pain
Take the selfish, take the weak
And all the things I cannot hide
Take the beauty, take my tears
Take my world apart, take my world apart
And I pray, and I pray, and I pray
Take my world apart, world apart

When I was seventeen, a friend put this song on a tape for me to listen to in the hospital. I listened to it on my Ipod last night and this morning at 4 am. I think the lyrics speak for themselves, so I won't elaborate on the song's personal meaning.By the way I also like this song musically, but I can't post the actual song as I am ignorant about computers.

Why you should always wear a helmet, especially if your head is not on straight

When I was eighteen, the summer before I started my full-time factory job, I took a summer school course at St. Thomas Moore. Surprisingly I wasn't a very good summer school student; I got my lowest mark ever in high school and only did well on one test that was total review. I didn't study that much either. Every morning that July I would bike to school in my jeans. It was hot and I would get extremely sweaty before I arrived in the air-conditioned school. Since I wasn't a great student, the teacher gave me special accomodations and allowed me longer to take the test. So one morning I was biking to school early so I could begin the test before the other students. I was about to turn into the school when I noticed a car beside me. Stupidly I thought the car was also turning and even more stupidly I thought we could turn at the same time. So the car hit me and I flew over the windshield of the car and landed at the other side of the road; my helmet was split down the middle, I had some scrapes and bruises, but I was basically unhurt. I was ready to go and take my test, but the person whose car I had collided with was very worried and called 911. So the firefighters arrived, and insisted on cutting open my jeans at the knees to inspect the damage. I had to make those jeans into shorts; I was mad about that. Then the paramedics made me go in the ambulance to go to the hospital, although I was basically unhurt. If I remember correctly I later had to pay for the ambulance. The police took my bike as evidence and later gave me a hefty fine for turn without safety as well as points on my driver's license, although at this time I wasn't driving a car.
After a nurse cleaned up my scrapes on my arms and legs, I returned to school that afternoon and took my test. I noticed some of the other students pointing me out as the student who had gotten hit by a car. This story could have been told in a more humorous fashion, as I have had all my coworkers convulsing over the ridiculousness of what I had done. Today it sounds a little more melodramatic, but I am emotional after reading the VE section in the Spectator.
The point of this story is that you should always always wear your helmet, because you could get permanent brain damage should you be hit by a car, or should you hit the car yourself, as in my case. I haven't biked much since this incident, but I still have my bike which is slightly damaged but still rideable.

A Brief Update

Some exciting news: I think I am losing weight! Also I love my hair, my life, and am looking forward to being a real nurse! In other news, I have left Christian Cafe. I think I know a good man now when I see one. And they aren't all already taken!

The Evolution of this Blog

A few days ago I was reading over many of my blog posts. I realized my posts have gotten a lot briefer and a lot less thoughtful. There was a time when I considered deleting this blog, but I don't think I could do that. I am proud of some of my posts and others remind of when I used to be a whole lot more passionate about life and about God. Rereading the posts reminded me of some of my visions for life. I also looked over my dream book recently, which my friend bought for me to fill up with my dreams. In it I started some pages about the fruits of the Spirit with biblical quotes and specific goals and a dream statement for each fruit. I also wrote down my dreams for my future husband and started some pages about random things like travel, writing, children, and biblical studies. There was no page about becoming a nurse and very little detail about anything except the fruits of the spirit and my description of my future husband, to which I added the necessary caveat "should he ever appear."
There are some posts I have deleted, including the one that probably was the most read due to its subject matter. Other ones I viewed as too negative, or too revealing.
Also my blog is a record of a hard time in my life around three years ago. I wouldn't really know what happened when if I didn't have the blog record.
I think that in my back of my mind I always imagined that my future husband would someday read my blog. But then I've always been a romantic at heart. Well, it's late and this writing has been interrupted by a phone call from an old friend so I will wrap things up. I'll just say that I hope this blog can be revived and that the quality of writing will improve.