Success!

I passed my permit qualification! You need 80 points, and I got 80. Barely. But I did! (Thanks to the great instructors who had extra time for me this morning in practice since I was the only one there).

Quitting and Failing

I'd rather quit than actually fail at something. I've heard that's an attribute of a middle child. I don't know, and I guess I didn't realize it about myself. I don't like failing. In high school, this evidenced itself in slacking. Because if I didn't try, I didn't look like I was trying to get straight A's, and then I wouldn't fail if I didn't get good grades. (They were fine; not as good as they could have been).
In the Spring, my husband talked me into excersizing my second amendmant right to bear arms, and we signed up to get our concealed carry permits. [Side note: I hope this doesn't piss anyone off. I'm not doing it to make a point or push an agenda. I'm doing it because a) I believe we should exersize what rights we have or they will more easily be taken away b) it was something to do with my hubby and he would have done it without me anyway c) If you're going to be near guns, you oughtta know how to use them d) I want to be familiar enough that if I ever am in a situation where I need to protect my kids, I won't endanger anyone unnecessarily. Hopefully that keeps anyone from jumping down my throat. Don't worry. I won't run out on the streets shooting whatever moves, and I won't try to push my opinions on anyone (and please don't try to push yours)].
Anyway, we took a four hour safety class together, and then I took a written test and passed. Then all that was left was qualifying by shooting 8 out of 10 rounds at a target 30 feet away. It's really not that hard. We've been practicing, but it turns out, I'm not super great. I have a left-hand problem, because it tries to take over, and my left eye tries to take over too, and it just doesn't work out great. We went in to practice and qualify on Saturday, and of course my husband scored perfect because he's like that and does perfect at everything he ever decides to try.
I am not perfect. I do not have a burning inner determination that gets me through whatever I want to do. I'm not that smart, and I'm not talented at much of anything, so... naturally, I did not pass my test. (I also missed out on a lot of practice time I could have had because of my grandma's funeral, not to make excuses).
Anyway, it really bothered me. My left hand took over in my nervous subconscious and I started firing with my left finger instead of my right, even though I was holding the gun with my right hand. So all of my shots went to the left, and it sucked.
I want to quit. I don't ever want to go back to the stupid range or put on the stupid earmuffs again. It's really bothering me that I suck at everything I try.
And I know that it's because I don't practice enough or learn well enough or whatever. But it's just crap for me. I don't know why it's depressing me so much. I only have one try left to get my permit, and it's this Saturday. So there are some options that might increase my chances, but really, it's a lost cause at this point. And quitting would be so much easier. Because then it wouldn't look like I failed. And I wouldn't feel that dark, overwhelming sickness that comes when I can't preform as well as I should. I hate that feeling, and I've spent a good portion of subconscious brain effort avoiding it.
Now I need to just face up to it. Because really, I think quitting is a bigger failure than just failing. That probably sounds pithy, but I don't know. I think my generation is full of quitters, and I don't want to join ranks with those who could have, should have, and would have. I'd rather fail legitimately. So I will next Saturday. And maybe, by some miracle or grace, I won't fail. I don't even care if I get the permit. I just don't want to look stupid.
For the record, I will have achieved my goals for doing the course, but... it just ain't the same without the little card to carry around.

I miss her

I'm home from Montana. My heart is so sore from being at my Grandma's house without my grandma there. I'd like to have a day to myself to brood and mourn and think everything through, but that won't happen. I've hardly had any time alone in the last week, and everything's been so busy.
But. That's just me. On to her.

My grandma was a writer. She wrote a lot of poetry and stories. And I'm glad she left it behind for us, so we could always have those parts of her.

On Thursday my girl cousins and I went through some of my grandma's jewelry boxes. She had a lot of old and new things all mingled together. She liked to keep things. My cousin thought it was because she was a pack rat, but I think it was partly because she cherished things, sort of like I do. Things that seem like junk, really aren't, when you realize she kept it because a grandkid gave it to her as a gift, or because she wore it on a special day.

I wrote a poem, trying to use the same style she always did, and it's not great, but I thought I'd share it anyway.

Grandma's Jewelry Box

Grandma's jewelry box was filled with many things
pins and brooches, watches beads
and pretty little rings.
What delight her granddaughters found
in trying on each piece
along with her old hats and gowns.

And now, the time has come for us to inherit these treasures
and as we look, we discover Grandma's life
was full of simple pleasures.
She loved the elegant along with the bold
so she kept all of those pretty things
and cherished the the stories they told

Grandma's jewelry box,
saved through generations
the great and small, she loved them all
as she did her grand children.

So much to say, so little time.
I would love to share all that's been happening these last few days And I will, but right now I'm enjoying time with my cherished family, savoring our time together. I haven't seen some of them for almost 15 years!
Sitting here on the couch with my aunt and enjoying some peace and quiet now that the busy funearl day is wrapping up. My cousins went to the bar, and some of us stayed behind and did music stuff with my cousin, second cousin once removed, and hubby and all who cared to watch. It's been a good day, but a sad day too. I miss my grandma already.

Royalty

You descended from royalty
and high-classy folk
yet you chose the simple life
of praying for your daily bread and scraping and saving
and you lived there all those years
finding contentment in something outside of
home and garden and family and life
outside of the way people viewed you or how you were treated
Blossoming like a rose in the thorns
and all who came into your presence
found solace and rest
and comfort of down-to-earth and being liked just as you were
Those who met you out of context
knew you were beautiful and full of class
you who could have lived among royalty and riches
who took the way of the worker
and it probably wasn't all you thought it would be
there in the Montana desert
hanging laundry and baking bread
but you pressed on
growing your garden of peace and honor
in your trail, all those who felt your care
And you found the value in simple things,
and looked for stories in the everyday.
You lived a noble life, like those you knew who went before
and you painted the stories of so many folks, of family and friends
and years gone by.
the words you wrote meant a lot to us
And you mean so much more.

No Compromise

Ever since I met my husband, he has raved about Keith Green. I didn't know much about him at all. He happened to have written a song I really liked, "There is a Redeemer", but that was about all I knew. Over the years, I've put together details to know a little more. I didn't really like him. His music is abrasive and his voice is annoying. He was an amazing pianist, but I just haven't been a big fan of his. But a couple weeks ago, I picked up his biography in the church library. I thought I should read it to know a little more, and I recently found out that they're making a movie about him, so i wanted to read the book first. [editor's note: having read it, I can see why my husband respects him so much. He's so similar!]

It was a really good read. I think everyone should read it (especially you, Scarlet because the beginning half reminded me a lot of you). He has a really amazing story. Starting with his childhood popularity and fame, stretching through his teen years of searching and seeking the "Truth", and then into his married life and the development of his ministry and music.

He set aside music for a while to see if it was what God wanted. In the meantime, he'd tell people about Jesus and pray with them to be saved, and if they needed a way out of what they were stuck in, he'd have them move in with him and Melody. He and his wife adopted an 11 year old girl when they'd been married a year. They eventually picked up songwriting and music again, and picked up a record label. He rose to popularity so fast, despite his controversial opinions about things. As his housing of new converts and seekers overtook the neighborhood, they became official, calling themselves "Last Days Ministries". As the ministry spread with more music, preaching and newsletters and literature, they decided to move to Texas, where you can still find them. Of course, if you hear anything about him, you know he died after 7 years in ministry in a plane crash. So the book talks about all that time.

I'm the same age he was when he died, and I have very little to show for it. He had so much. But that was his personality and his calling.

Now, coming from someone who's never been a big fan of the "Jesus Movement" (but whose parents were saved because of it), but who's facinated with history in general, this was really fun to read. I had so many challenging thoughts during all of it. Keith was a person who decided what was right and went with it all the way, hard core. He wasn't always right, and sometimes he had to correct himself, but he was honest.

It's made me think, looking at his life and the things he said, how much have I watered down what I believe to fit into the mold? WHere have I compromised my passion? What would a person like Keith Green think of my life, and what would that reflect about what God sees and thinks? The album art for his second album was really cool. It's a picture of Mordecai from the Bible, not bowing to Haman (and apparently I copied a bad quality version but I'm too lazy to change it).

I can't really explain everything I've thought while I've read the book, but it has endeared a person to me who I didn't like before, and reading it has caused me to think about what I'm sharing with others. How lost the world is, searching for their answers, but not finding them. And what responsibility I have, if I claim that I hold the truth in my heart, to share it. I'm not going to camp out listening to Keith Green albums any time soon, but I really enjoyed discovering the story behind his songs, and the way God used one man so profoundly.