The Fight

We all have a battle that we constantly will fight

Some think this fight lies in the battlefields where blood is shed
Others think this fight lies in the streets where guns are kept
Some think this fight is up to the President to revolutionize
Others think this fight lies in battling for their rights
Some think this fight is standing up for what you believe
Others think this fight is getting the glory when you achieve
Some think this fight is to battle a sickness and overcome it
Others think this fight is to get knocked down and rise above it

I think this fight lies in the very depths of our soul
I think this fight is something we can control
What we fight day in and day out? Temptation.

We fight temptation in every day decisions
But we let temptation win under certain provisions
You see in fighting temptation true heart is what we lack
Some couldn’t beat temptation with his hands tied behind his back
We let him whisper his sweet nothings in our ears
But we don’t think to blame him when giving in brings us tears
Fighting temptation is when you tell the body you’re in control
Fighting temptation is when you let the body come second to you’re soul
We let the body control our lives day in and day out
When it thinks it needs something we tend to its never ceasing shout
I need this it cries, I need that, give me more of all that I think I lack
I need more food, I need more drink, I need more drugs or so I think
Imagine our world if we didn’t have compulsive buyers and so to liars
The ones that when things don’t go their way turn into baby criers
Imagine our world with out those giving in to sex, drugs and the bottle
Or the ones who’s spending budget is always turned on full throttle
Imagine our world if people could just hold onto the deadliest weapon
Instead of letting their tongues spout off words that should have been kept in
Yes, if we didn’t have all those people, there would be no one left in any nation
Which makes me say once again our true battle is fighting temptation
When we can figure out our bodies die and our soul is what lives on
Maybe we can reverse the roles and make our soul’s needs number one

The Last Generation

Over time everyone has thought, their days were much simpler than now
They walked to school both ways, or had to fetch their milk from a cow
They didn’t have gadgets to entertain them, no they entertained themselves
And those foreign things called books, didn’t just sit up on shelves
Yes, I’ve heard stories about how my family had to slaughter their own chickens
And when my pops got into trouble, he knew what it meant to take a licken
Oh stories I’ve heard of my great grandparents and the times they had back then
And I wonder what kind of stories will we tell the next generation
Will we say we had it rough, when all answers were at our grasp
We type in a question on the web and we get a result in a flash
We think we have it rough if we have to miss our TV show
Or if our phone stops working, it totally messes with our flow
Will we say our lives were so busy we had to pay for Yoga to relax
And when we were kids we had books we had to carry on our backs
Will I tell my grandkids I had it rough stopping at red lights
Because fifty years from now they predict cars to be in flight
Am I the last generation that remembers what it was like
When we would go outside and play pretend and go for rides on bikes
Am I the last generation who remembers when a computer didn’t exist in the house?
And Saturday mornings were the kind of cartoons you watched a cat chase a mouse
Am I the last generation who remembers buying a cassette tape
And listening to songs by Shania Twain instead of rap that spits about rape
Am I the last generation who’s mothers liked to poof their bangs
And pantyhose and stirrup pants made you part of the cool gang
Am I the last generation who didn’t have a cell phone until seventeen
And so a guy had to call her parents home instead of texting to sound so keen
Am I the last generation who ate together as a family around a table
Instead of in front of a TV so we don’t have to talk because we’re not able
Am I the last generation who asked for dolls as a Christmas present
Instead of a Wii, Ipod, phone, computer, or such that now sound so pleasant
Am I the last generation who had to do chores without complaint
Or we would get a spanking on our bottoms for not acting like a saint
We can’t say things get better as technology improves
Things like family interaction and real conversation are what we lose
We can’t say things are better now than they were fifty years ago
When divorce rates keep going up and church attendance is getting low
We can’t say things are better in discovering new ways to entertain
When in just forty years from now we will have WIFI to the brain
Am I the last generation who will know life when we tried to live
Are we a dying breed, those who instead of always taking would rather give

Some Things I Wonder

I wonder if people care about what I look like,
Because if they do I’m sure they’d say, I wonder.
I wonder if being happy involves having money,
Why do so many people hate their jobs, I wonder
I wonder why people idolize a celebrity,
That clearly has no morals, I wonder
I wonder why I thought alcohol was so great
If only under it’s influence I was okay to eat McDonalds, I wonder
I wonder why people say they want to be rich
When the suicide rate is increasing with wealth, I wonder
I wonder how little faith I must have if I can’t move a mountain
When all I would need is the size of a mustard seed, I wonder
I wonder why girls go to the bathroom together when stalls are separate
When guys go alone and the urinals are side by side, I wonder
I wonder why we invest money into saving animals
When people are suffering from homelessness, I wonder
I wonder where in the world do fruit flies come from
When I bring fruit home they aren’t there, I wonder
I wonder why some people say I love you to everybody
And others can barely muster up the words, I wonder
I wonder where the weight goes at night
When you lose it in your sleep, I wonder
I wonder if people could fathom God’s love for us
What would life be like, I wonder
I wonder why girls want to be so skinny
When guys say they like a few curves, I wonder
I wonder how people are afraid of evil
But forget all that is good, I wonder
I wonder why as technology advances
Our moral society gets worse and worse, I wonder
I wonder why people waste time counting calories
Instead of counting their blessings, I wonder
I wonder how some people can’t believe in miracles
When they can experience a sunrise, I wonder
I wonder where my mind goes when I sleep,
To conjure up the dreams I have, I wonder
I wonder why people don’t smile or say hello
When everyone longs to be talked to, I wonder
I wonder how God has patience with those that ignore him,
As we all sit waiting for a text from someone, I wonder
I wonder why we pay people so much to entertain us
When it costs us a loss of time in reality, I wonder
I wonder how people say you haven’t a choice with whom you fall in love with
When we have the choice to marry whomever we wish, I wonder
I wonder how come the best selling book on the planet, the Bible
Is only read by a small fraction of the world, I wonder
I wonder why people try to impress someone who doesn’t care,
When caring people don’t need an impression anyway, I wonder
I wonder if after people read this they think I’m crazy,
Or if maybe I’m one of the only ones who’s made time to wonder, I wonder

The Four Critters and Me

House sitting isn't your ideal job upon graduating but I don't believe doing the ideal thing is always the best thing, so I took the job. Here I am in San Diego watching two dogs and two cats and a house, the house being the easiest of the five; as long as it doesn't move I'm doing my job. The dogs and cats however have tested my patience, and it's a good thing I have it or I may have skinned the hair of their hides by now. When I say this I'm totally joking because the dogs have no hair.

Yeah the dogs are hairless. Although I'm not aware of their breed, when first meeting them I almost felt as though I was meeting one of the hyenas off of the lion king. They barked at me wildly. With each ferocious little yip I could tell they thought I was invading their space. Well they would have to get used to it because I was moving in for two months. I've never pet a dog without fur before, but if you'd like to know what it's like just roll up your pant leg and feel. No, better not. I'm assuming your legs have more hair than these dogs, seeing as it's no shave November and all. But if you haven't put lotion on for a month or two, you might be able to relate. Bare, dry skin. So needless to say it took me a while to want to pet them. I think the whole reason anyone wants to pet a dog is to feel their fur. Humans like fur because they don't have it. Most humans can't grow fur I mean, otherwise we would sit and caress our arms all day. If I wanted to pet skin I would do just that.

My stand offish attitude towards them may seem very judgmental and cold I'm aware, but what do you expect from a farm girl who thinks of dogs as labs, collies or heelers? One of the dogs could sense that I was ill content with her and approached me saying, "I feel as though you don't like me, so I can't be comfortable in my own skin." I looked at her and replied, "Honey, that's the problem, you're just skin." Right then I remembered I wasn't prejudice or racist and decided dogs could fit that category too. So I pet her. And it wasn't that bad. They wake me up every morning just before six. They must be able to tell time because they are quite consistent. They whine and jump up and down as to be sure to make their dog tags jingle so I can hear them. So I've turned into a morning person.

Since the dogs are hairless it should be no surprise that they don't want to go outside at all if it's below fifty five degrees or raining out. This causes me a problem sometimes because they won't take their "messes" beyond the doggie door. They have their own door that leads to the back yard so during the day when we are not on our walks they can go take care of business whenever the urge comes. But on those days when it's rainy, and heaven forbid they shiver, they leave their doo right in front of the doggie door, like, "Oh shoot, it's raining again, it's cold, this is as far as I go." Not cool dogs.

These dogs do have names, I almost forgot. They are both female with the names Coli, and Miska. Coli is the leader dog, when I say leader I mean that Miska cannot make a decision on her own without first consulting with Coli to see if it's okay. Coli is boss. She's also extremely nosy. Wherever I go, she is at my heels, so then Miska tags close behind. I can't be in the bathroom for more than five minutes without them scratching on the door and whining wondering if I've fallen in. Coli would follow me into a fire if I walked in, she literally has to be right beside me at all times. I wish I could find a man that loved me that much, but anyhow she's the definition of loyal. Miska on the other hand is a little bit more shy. One of my complaints of this dear dog is that she will not poop in one pile. I know this sounds picky, but when I am taking them on a walk Miska will let out one little drop after the other and leave a trail for me to pick up. It gets quite embarrassing. One time I literally had to wipe her butt like a child before I let her back in the house. Sometimes I think I'm taking care of toddlers.

Since the dogs are naked they have their own personal blankets that I have to cover them up with when we are in the house so they aren't cold. Yes, these are high maintenance doggies. But these prissy dogs do have the worst smelling farts my nose has ever witnessed. They are rumblers too. Like flat out woopie cushion style. Needless to say I have a bottle of febreeze I keep close by at all times. I've gotten pointed at and talked about several times walking two naked dogs down the street everyday, but hey, what's a dog sitter to do? The critters grow on me everyday.

Enough on the dogs. Cats? Well we have your as seen on tv, fat orange stereotypical Garfield who only thinks of one thing. Lasagna. His name is Deco. In the mornings he can barely muster up a meow because his arteries are so clogged. Some days are better than others though. He usually just hangs out on the back patio soaking up rays all day. At night when I'm eating at the table he makes sure to sit in the chair across from me and watch me eat. I guess you can say I still have a family dinner. Then we have my favorite animal of the house, a dark gray panther looking cat named Trouve. He's the cuddler. When I sit down to read at night he is usually found in my lap snoozin like a baby. He also loves to sit very near to me. He leaves the house during the day to explore the neighborhood but soon finds his way back and meows at me on the porch to let him in.

I had an actual conversation with Deco the other night. It went like this. It was night time so I had shut the door so the animals could no longer go out. I forgot to open the door to the laundry room where the kitty litter is however and Deco got very upset. I was on the couch reading when I heard him bellowing really big sorry meows in the hallway. I said, "Hey what's the matter bud?" He slowly walks out to the living room and then looks toward the hallway and meows again. I said, "You gotta go potty dude?" He then, kid you not answered like this, "Yaaaaaahhh." I seriously died laughing and went and opened the door for him. Sure enough he runs right in and does his business. These cats are smart. The dogs should take lessons.

You must be thinking I've gone crazy over here on the west coast living by myself and talking to animals all day. No. It's actually brought me back to life. Not that I wasn't living before, but I think everyone should have two months of their lives to just get away and read and write and reflect and get in touch with themselves again. In this crazy world we forget the little things. Like thanking God we can see the sunrise. Something as simple as that is worth cherishing. Tomorrow is not guaranteed for me, so I'm living each day as it is, a gift.

Ever Wondered Why Nebraska is The Good Life? Here's Why.

Well, this morning started just like every other morning on the farm. Unexpectedly exciting. I’m awoken five minutes before my alarm gets a chance to go off to the voice of my dad saying, “Megan, wake up! Jerome broke down on the interstate and needs a ride.” I look at the clock and it’s 7:00 am. My first thought was “Wow, my brother is up early if he is already on the interstate.” My second thought was, “He can wait five extra minutes while I lay here until my alarm goes off.”

So after a quick brush of teeth and a half attempt to put my hair in a ponytail, I grab some coffee and head out the door, ready to greet the sun with squinting eyes as it rises. My cell phone went off 12 miles later, my brother on the other end asking if I was almost there. He must have assumed I was flying our jet to get him but I told him no I had barely left. I arrived just outside of Cozad around 8:30 to find our old farm truck stranded on the interstate. In my moment of playing Dukes of Hazard I slowed down just enough on the interstate to whip down into the ditch and get to the other side before getting squished like a bug by oncoming traffic. It was a proud moment for me.

Another proud moment was towing my brother down the interstate going 40 mph. Yes; I am a Jill of all trades, that being a sister to Jack. I do it all. We get the pickup safe off the interstate two miles later and into a Burger King parking lot and proceed to head to Kearney. It is then that I am informed we are even going to Kearney.

Let me take a quick timeout here and say, if you are working for a bunch of men on a farm (and happen to be a girl), 90% of the time you have no idea what’s going on, you just do what you’re told. How should I compare the scenario, bottom of the totem pole perhaps? Or the bottom of the food chain works well. (Quite ironic since I do most of the food making.) Anyway, my point is, we are never told of the next step in the plan of the day. I’m assuming this is because of the simple fact that most of the time things on the farm never go according to plan anyway, as was the case today.

So we head off to Kearney to get a grill guard for our semi. Jerome was supposed to be there at 8:00 am but seeing it was now 9:00 this was not going to happen. Things in Kearney were really not that exciting. I played fetch with my brother’s dog while it took them quite some time to get the grill guard secured safely on the bed of the truck. We then went to a gas station outside of town to relieve our stomachs. Mine was growling, his was tied in a knot. So he went to the bathroom and I grabbed a muffin and some more coffee before we hit the road to head home.

We are informed about 30 minutes from home that my dad was stranded with an ill working combine in the bean field and we needed to pick him up on our way by. So we picked up dad and he sent us on a new mission down to Logan, Kansas where some of our farm ground is managed. I ran inside quick to burn a new CD while they were fueling up the pickups. It was around 12:30 pm when we left for mission two, Jerome in the straight truck and me following close behind in his pickup. There in Kansas, Cory, who is helping us farm, was putting together a part he just retrieved some three hours before from a break down that happened just a day ago. Jerome and I, let’s be honest here, Jerome helped Cory get the drill ready while again I played with the dogs like a good clueless farm girl should do.

After they had everything fixed up and running again I helped move farm equipment to a different field before we proceeded to head back to the good life. I was elected to drive on the way home. I looked at Jerome’s sleepy eyes and agreed it was probably best I should be behind the wheel. Quite conveniently for him I had just burned a CD that would be great to fall asleep to, but unlucky for me I had to keep my eyes open as Dallas Green sang us both lullabies driving home on the much deserted Kansas highway. I think I passed more dead raccoons on the road than I did motorized vehicles, which I found strange because in order for those raccoons to die I assumed a motorized vehicle would have to end its life. Either way it is definitely raccoon crossing season.

After an entire day of driving around the country, failing to fix farm equipment faster than it can break down, we finally arrive home around 4:00 pm from what seemed to be a pointless day at a fake attempt to count the yellow lines between the never ending white ones, my brother reaches for the rest of my blueberry muffin on the dash of the truck and makes an effort to put it in his mouth to only then watch as it crumbles down his shirt just millimeters from the desired target. With a long sigh he slowly shoves the three crumbs left between his finger and thumb, smaller than even the tastiest dip of chew, in his mouth and looks at me and says, “Seems like this is how the whole day has went. We get so close, but then everything falls apart.”

It was then I remembered that he told me he held in a number two, if you will, all morning while stranded on the side of the road. When we stopped at the gas station later and he was finally able to relieve himself I never asked him how that all turned out. I expect he wasn’t speaking of that when he said ‘so close but then everything falls apart.’ For his sake I hope that was the one thing in his day that came out smoothly.

Victimized Society

Okay. I'm writing on something serious today so if you are down to turn on your brains and think, please read on, otherwise continue clicking on other people's facebook pages while consuming as much useless information about how their weekend went as possible. Or I suppose you can always change your profile picture. People might be bored with you from that angle after three days.

Tonight I'm writing on a thought I've been turning around in my head ever since I walked out of church this morning. The sermon was on forgiveness. Oh how hard it is to forgive isn't it? Especially to those whom we love. How can we forgive somebody for hurting us so badly, and why should we? Well I'll tell you why. Because the dude upstairs does. I'm not talking about the guy above you in your apartment complex. I'm speaking of the one and only Gee Oh Dee. Yep, God. He forgives us before we even hurt him. And we continue to hurt him every single day. Now before you stop reading because you think this is getting too religious for you, (because Lord knows I'm not religious), think about it like this. You have this friend, whom you love very much, so much in fact that you would do anything for them. You have what you think is a good relationship with them but then you notice they start to pull away after while. You watch as they struggle through life and wish you could help them but whatever you have to say is ignored. You still get along okay but conversations become shorter and shorter and before long you are barely spoken to. Almost completely ignored. But then your friend hits rock bottom and suddenly they need someone to turn to...YOU. Would you help them? That same situation happens to God every...single...day.

It happens ALL the time. Except we are the one's doing the ignoring, and not taking his advice. And still after days, weeks, months, and years of ignoring his presence we have the balls to turn to him in a time of need. NEED. Gosh we are some arrogant creatures, we humans, aren't we? We know it all until something doesn't go right. Then when things are bad we find things to blame it on. "Oh, well it's not my fault I'm this way, If blah blah blah hadn't happened in my life then I would be different." or "If she/he wasn't this way then I wouldn't act this way." or "This happened, so this is the way I am now." It's never our fault. We can't even take an ounce of blame. Look how victimized we have made ourselves. We have to go around telling everybody why we are the way we are and even justifying it continually in our own minds. Well, you are the way you are because you weren't strong enough to stand up when life took the rug out from under your feet.

Before you think I'm a total B-word, do know that yes I am human believe it or not, and have spent my share of time wallowing around on the ground thinking I had a big owie that couldn't be fixed. And from time to time I find myself face down in the dirt. But I try not to spend too much time down there because I start to find it quite ridiculous how everyone around me has the same owies and as we begin to compare I realize mine isn't as unique and terrible as I thought. So I stand. And in standing I find it quite rewarding knowing all it took was a change of thought. So look around you, whatever struggles you are facing, you aren't alone. Stop playing the "I'm the victim" game with everybody, because there is only one victim. It's Jesus. Look up a picture of him hanging on the cross and tell me that he's not a victim. That leaves you and I as only one thing, the perpetrator. We are the reason he hangs there, and we are the reason you and I lay on the ground thinking life is miserable. If he intended for your life to be miserable he wouldn't have allowed himself to die for you in misery.

Crazy thing about life is that it's up to you how to live it. And hell, I'm no preacher or religious self righteous figure trying to tell the world how horrible they are. I'm just your average, every day chic who's had her share of ups and downs. And I write this knowing that I too need to take my own advice. But I also write this knowing that in standing you sure as hell can see things a lot clearer than you can from the ground's perspective. Ashes to ashes we all fall down, but who wants to stand up and get over it? It's about that time.

The Things We Get Used To

Oh the things we get used to
The things that become part of our day
The things that we think will never go away
We get used to alarms, and cows mooing on farms
We get used to using our legs and using our arms
We get used to seeing ourselves every day in the mirror
And using our nose to smell and our ears to hear
We get used to giving people hugs and kisses
And looking up at the stars and making wishes
We get used to going to class or going to work
We get used to hearing a laugh or seeing a smirk
We get used to driving with the windows rolled down
And sometimes, sadly, we get used to seeing a frown
Oh the things we get used to
We get used to telling someone they are wrong or right
And we get used to living for Friday night
We get used to always having someone around
Or we get used to being alone and not hearing a sound
We get used to loving with all our heart
And yes, we even get used to thinking we're smart
We get used to listening to our favorite tunes
And the funny people who act like baboons
We get used to having our room a mess
And wanting more when we really need less
Oh the things we get used to
Well maybe we shouldn't get used to things at all
Because one day we could run into a wall
And the things we were used to are no longer there
Like our house, our friends, or even our hair
Yes sometimes things happen that require a change
And then things start to feel so strange
We feel out of place, sad, angry and lost
The sun was just shining, but then came a cold frost
We get used to things that are really a gift
Then one day our life just takes a shift
So look around you friend and see things as they are
A shoe is a shoe and a car is a car
See, one day you could have to walk with bare feet
And you may have no car to drive down the street
Oh the things we get used to
So tell mama you love her and give papa a pat on the back
And as for your brothers and sisters, cut them some slack
Give an old friend a call, and take your dog for a walk
And even if that friend is chatty, just listen to them talk
You see, life is good and so are the things around
And maybe what we are looking for we've already found
Yes, I'm speaking of the things we get used to