CrazY cowBoy DrEAm

Crazy Cowboy Dream

“The miles that I have traveled, the places I have seen

Just won’t let me put a saddle on this Crazy Cowboy Dream”¹

          

A few days ago I took my niece up on the invitation to join her at school for “hot lunch”. When your nephew and nieces range in age from 13 down to 7, it is easy to see the GIANT handwriting on the wall. Those pending teenage years have the possibility to make those invitations a thing of the past ! A scheduling conflict resulted in the need to move our original lunch date from the coveted “salad bar” day to a standard “hot lunch” day. Have no fear, this school brought it’s noon hour A-Game. My nephew and nieces attend a private Catholic School in Yakima. Most of the teachers recognize me by now as I have been picking up at least 1 child a year for going on a decade! Despite what most folks would consider a less-than-friendly locale, the school proves friendly & welcoming to the weary lunch maven or afternoon courier. On this recent voyage I found myself likening their school to a small, rural town. The kind of town where the lunch is hot, the smiles are warm, & crazy cowboy dreams are still dreamed.

Back at the cafeteria my small town euphoria was kindly interrupted by a sweet voice, “Aunt Jenna, would you like milk?” Don’t tell the health officials, but typically the only time I reach for milk is when it comes served as a double in a tall glass with ice, a few choice ingredients, and a name that sounds suspiciously like a famous handgun!  On this day, nostalgia won as chocolate milk beckoned its way to my tray. As I found my way back to a table surrounded by 11 year old girls and not a boy in sight, I found myself wondering when that fateful day arrived so many years ago that took away the choice of chocolate milk and took our crazy cowboy dreams right along with it.

One of the great blessings life throws our way are the times when a philosophical theme of one kind or another takes residence in our mind. This philosophical battle invokes pondering that may last for days, weeks, even months. As we drive to and from the kids’ school, ride through that group of pairs, or fix the familiar fence line we may not even realize what our brain fervently ponders day after day. If we are lucky we will reach the pinnacle of all great pondering…the much lofted after revelation. Cattle ranchers are blessed to be an intricate part of nature that includes few others. They are able to take in the wide open spaces, fresh air, understand the delicate balance of all life that surrounds them. All that oneness with nature is great but let’s face it; 'em ranchers are slightly scant on human interaction! It has been a long time since they saddled up to a lunchroom table with their chocolate milk, unless you count those bi-yearly trips to the sale barn cafe!  However, this lifestyle makes them far from short on philosophical ponderings or even a profound revelation now and again. Rather than send our ranchers to “Mingling 101” down at the local Eagles, let’s keep them out on the range & tap into that pondering mind. How intriguing it is to sit down at the lunch table and hear a group of folks whose crazy cowboy dreams may very well be alive and kickin’.

My penchant is strong for anything that takes me back to a time when the worry was less and the “living and doing” was more. Typically that means a great deal of enthusiasm at every 2/$1.00 candy rack where the packaging hasn’t changed since Reagan was in office. However, if you look beyond the Cinnamon Bears, Bubbletape, & Slurpees you just might catch a glimpse of the “good ole days”. The Good Ole Days are not limited to the 1880s or the writings of Laura Ingalls Wilder. We all have our very own version of good ole days. That school lunchroom with its choice of “white milk or chocolate” is just one small peek into our glorious yesteryears. Those days when our minds were full enough to be present yet empty enough to dream.

Someone reminded me this week of the saying about doers and dreamers. My personal rendition goes something like “There are three types of people in this world: Dreamers, Doers, and those that let others do the dreaming and the doing.” I believe we cannot successfully do until we have successfully dreamed. When is the last time you let yourself dream or even turned those dreams into something you did? We all know that no one has successfully ever kept us down without our consent but sometimes it takes a good hot lunch, carton of milk, and a kickball game to remind us to start living our crazy cowboy dreams.

“....The miles that I have traveled, the places I have seen

Just won’t let me put a saddle on this Crazy Cowboy Dream”¹

(¹ Robert Earl Keen. “Crazy Cowboy Dream.” Bigger Piece of Sky. MP3. Koch Records, 2004.)

Originally published in WCA Ketch Pen November 2010. 

Heart Like a MuLe

An early evening perched on my family’s deck left my gaze to rest upon what I have long thought to be the most striking animal in the corral. As the sun set slowly behind Mt. Clements, the coloring of this animal was brought to life before my eyes. The sky’s gold and orange hues set off the rich chocolate dorsal stripe, surrounded by an almost brindle colored coat. The animal gazed up at me and I swore our eyes locked for a few fleeting seconds. Those soft eyes left me wondering what past such a beautiful creature was holding onto. Over the last year I have been intrigued over how something so rare and beautiful on the outside could be so fragile and complex on the inside. You see, this animal was not just another normal four-legged creature that had found its way onto my family’s abode. This was a mule. In fact, it was the first mule to ever have found a home here. “Mule” seemed to be its name, and in the nearly two years since he’s moved in he had come as far as almost allowing me to pet him! Dear family friends were kind enough to loan him to us in hopes we could lure him out of shell with TLC and more than a dose of trust. As I have not been the one footing the feed bill, “Mule” is of no bother to me. His “beautiful” bray always supplies me with one of those from-the-belly laughs and typically when I needed a laugh the most. His rare coloring gives a girl all the eye candy she could ask for, so as far as I am concerned he can put his feet up and stay awhile longer.

One day while out painting by the shop, “Mule” decided to rest his head over the nearby gate and keep me company, from a distance he felt was safe of course. Looking over at this creature that wanted so badly to trust but couldn’t unbury his past, I got to pondering about what path folks leave behind and the path that remains in the distance. As the mule loudly beckoned for my attention I looked up once more and begin to wonder just where one crosses over from the heart of a horse into the heart of a mule.

As I have journeyed through this writing experience with the Washington Cattlemen’s Association, some very drastic changes have occurred in my life, but more importantly in my soul. My recent WCA Ketch Pen sabbatical was not unintentional. For those of you that may tune into my blog now and again, you will have possibly noted the change. Anticipating a move to Texas, I quietly changed my blog from the Young Washington Cattlemen’s Association to The Sagebrush Chronicles. This name change was about more than just a potential location change, it granted me the freedom to dive deeper into philosophical ramblings without fear of remaining politically and socially neutral. My writing is something that seems to come from whatever journey my mind and soul is adventuring down. Great for a blog, not great for newspaper deadlines or an audience featuring a load of cattlemen and women that may be used to a slightly stauncher read. After many months of being left high and dry come Ketch Pen time, I came to a bold decision. As just a volunteer writer for a non-profit organization, I decided I was going deep. After all, aren’t all of us trudging up the same trail in life? That inevitable trail that seems to be left off of any map.

That very trail would be the one God and I have been climbing up the past few months, ice pick and all. I honestly acknowledge my recent articles have come up short on bovine related content. The cattle industry has not left my mind entirely; however, due to other circumstances it has only received the occasional nod in its direction from me. Less than two months ago I said goodbye to my job at Farm Credit and pointed my rig west on I-90 for what I hoped would be the last of my weekly Spokane-Selah commute. After a pit-stop in Lind, WA for the annual Combine Derby, I arrived in the Wenas with less than 5 weeks until I was bound for Fort Worth, TX! Last February I boldly applied for a one year Ranch Management Program at Texas Christian University. After inundating the professors of the Ranch Management Program with a lengthy auto-biography I was summoned for an interview. So, mid-April I was once again hitched up on the Southwest wagon, destination Fort Worth. Less than two weeks after my interview I had an official acceptance letter in my hands and the world as my oyster. Once I figured out a well-timed departure from my corporate career, I had just enough days left in Washington State to sell and pay off my car, sell most of my belongings, and find room in a rental rig for my *extensive* wardrobe, minus any winter item containing wool or insulation of course!

Then, that fateful morning dawned with a financial aid wake-up call. This well-oiled, smooth running plan thus far had seemingly been crafted by someone far wiser than me and months back I gave that wise leader the reins to this stubborn mule. God had the ability to change the plan at any time and this time I vowed to be willing to bend and so it seemed our “come to Jesus” talk had arrived. Would I “have the faith” and bend or would I stubbornly stand my ground and continue forward on this southbound trail I desperately wanted to travel? This time, I relinquished control, ignored what the world might say and have been hanging on ever since.

How many of you have sat around the kitchen table late at night wringing your hands through your hair facing a similar situation? God changed the plan mid-game and now what were you to do? The haystacks all caught fire, cows were stolen, Federal grazing stripped from your hands, a family member passed, your “income earner” lost their job...the scenarios seem endless. Well there are really only two options in times of unknown; we can view a change in the trail we were on as an opportunity or a dead-end. With those as my options, it seems I once again find myself picking up my crazy heart and giving it one more try.¹ Over the last decade I have found myself in more situations than I would have ever dreamed possible where I asked God, “So I guess we’re adding THIS to the mix?” Would the world see those bumps in the road as blessings? Well...probably not, they would probably just see a trail-block. But the world has the heart of a horse. Sometimes life is complicated, it is deep, it is not to be understood in the present, if understood ever. Sometimes, life requires the heart of a mule.

 (¹ Bingham, Ryan. “The Weary Kind.” Crazy Heart. MP3. New West Records, 2010.)

Originally published: Washington Cattlemen's Association Sept 2010 Ketch Pen

manIAc MonDAy

Integrity has been Occupying the hollow spaces of my mind today. I overheard a definition of Integrity by Stephen Covey (author of 7 Habits of Highly Effective People) that leaves me haunted. Would I be known as a person of Integrity if today was the day that Jesus called me to live in his precious home? This definition of integrity that haunts me combines honesty, ethics, morals, sincerity, authenticity and raises them as one to a whole new level. The ability to be completely transparent, turn yourself inside-out, the outside completely reflecting the inside, the inside completely reflecting the outside, Sincerity of the purest form, where your truest values and morals are reflected in every day, every situation, with every person....integrity. That is the goal for my life-attempting to reach that level of integrity each and every day, working simultaneously to make Christ smile...similarly rooted goals.

Some Mania I dug up from last week...enjoy your week:)

Random Run-in, Nieces Mary & Anna prior to their month in Germany:(

I am officially a red wine convert (W/ ice of course)!

Jess & I from the same mold;)

visit to Columbia Basin Friends=perfect Soulfood!

Every gal needs leather:)

a grief Disguised

"One learns of the pain of others by suffering one's own pain, my father would say, by turning inside oneself, by finding one's own soul. And it is important to know of pain, he said."

~Chaim Potok

An interesting thing happens when you have a "come to Jesus" talk with Jesus himself about whether this time around you are finally going to relinquish complete control to him in every aspect of your life....the deep crevices of your soul you didn't even realize you were once attempting to control, run free with great abandon. This great abandon isn't the vision of a child running through a field of wildflowers...it is more a chest crushing pain that has taken up residence & has yet to give notice of its leave date.. 

An incredible freedom in my writing was granted to me when I decided to change this blog from the 'Young Washington Cattlemen's" blog into something of a more personal journey. For those random few people who may be "crossovers" from the YWCA days this is not something for the faint of heart. In the last few months I have tested the limits of my personal authenticity & taken the scope of my writing along with it. Surviving 26 years of life has not been easy thus far but it has not been the entirely traumatic either. Have I made it harder on myself than necessary? Oh, I have no doubt!! I am a very stubborn, very German;), GIRL...with an independent, complicated, deep nature. I know I could have saved my heart some pain a few stops along the way. I also know that God has granted me with a Quilt of life full of patches very unique to my own story. I've become aware that This patched up, jig-jagged life, all my own, comes with a responsibility. You see...when you have experienced "unique" events in life, even more, when you've experienced a pain of the soul, then you never know who may be saved. It only takes one person to be a little vulnerable and a lot authentic to make someone's life slightly brighter.

The quote at the top of this post is taken from, "A Grace Disguised.. how the soul grows through loss" by Jerry Sittser. I have had this pain in my entire chest for about 2 weeks now & prayed for God to reveal to me what was the cause of it. This is no normal pain, it is a crushing, all encompassing pain that is unlike anything. Was it my lungs burning from my serious asthma? God's nudge that I should move to Tx? Shouldn't move to TX? Over a boy? Over a friend's agony? I begged the Lord to reveal to me the root so I could know how to ease my pain....hiking manastash ridge it was revealed to me: I was going through a stage of grieving...the stage I had been subconsciously avoiding the last 10 months. The nasty, all encompassing stage of TRUE heart-ache, grief related depression, physical symptoms of sleepless nights, nausea, etc. Did I praise God that he chose to bring me to this stage at a time when I could physically & mentally face it fully or did I curse him for bringing me into this stage without hardly any physical or mental distractions other than the ever-present ringing of my mother's voice...and her tears? Well neither really. I have instead been begging God not to leave nor forsake me during this time in my life that I now realize I tried so desperately to escape with committees, articles, trips, 2200 mile moving plans. God and I are grieving...grieving the loss of my best friend, my father, my mentor, my inspiration, my ideal for strength, courage, and faith. "We" are grieving the incredibely strained relationship with my mother, my upside down life, the loss of my ranch management program & TX fantasy...yep God is right here beside me to hold my hand & heart as there is no one more qualified to understand pain of the heart than Christ. Here I had been so self-righteously relieved, perhaps even proud of the way I had been handling "grieving" and yet I was truly only turning my back on the processes I felt would "cramp my day to day life".

Let us all ponder our souls...Really push ourselves to ask why we DON'T allow more thought, time, and LOVE to go towards those that are hurting, including ourselves. Why do we want to package it nice timeframes, descriptions, and emotions? The glory of being a human is our incredible diversity but the incredible similarities we do share. When its your turn or  a family members turn to hurt, not only turn their grief into grace, but do not allow any step of the journey to be under disguise.

sArAh PaLiN, "ThE wEsT", & ChaRacTeR

As a young 25 year old woman I admire Sarah Palin more each day. I find myself more akin to a Sarah Palin than an Angelina Jolie and for that I am truly grateful. As a gal growing up in the "WEST" and growing up on the frontier of our own, the Palin family could be found amongst my family's friends and my own friends from college. Perhaps it truly is something about us folks that are from the western United States and grew up learning to be self-sufficient and working in nature because I only see a woman I can truly relate to and look up to as a woman when other folks are using their own insecurities to challenge your success. Her career, family, and personal values are something that all young girls should be reading about instead of famous Hollywood actresses, singers, or a few other choice female politicians. I grew up working hard on a cattle ranch, never really experiencing family vacations instead spending summers farming and irrigating and holidays spent at home with hungry cows & calves to feed, one parent was in a lengthy coma by the time I was 15 with years of brain injury rehab to follow, and my father passed away after a 6 yr battle with stage IV cancer. I paid for college with student loans, and the government didn't hand me free money even though my family's combined salary would appall the post-man. FOLKS-this is real life...Not exaggerated or made up. Sarah Palin's life is what we tax-paying, church-going, Jesus Christ believing, hard working families experience every day. She has a son in the miliarty-gone to battle for all of us, a daughter who made a mistake that most of your children have probably already made-just didn't get handed the baby card, and her youngest baby has Down Syndrome. She has worked HARD, her husband has worked HARD, they don't come from Old Money, private schools, trust funds, OR welfare. Is that truly so hard to believe? It’s not for me or everyone else I know. Leadership and serving has been a part of my life and my family's since I was born....because it’s just the way you are raised out in the country. You help out your neighbors, your family memories are experienced WORKING alongside each other not on a vacation, digital or flat screen TVs are rare, spending money on cable or satellite doesn't make sense. So, when you ask if any women support Sarah Palin the answer is YES!!!! Sarah Palin is the type of woman I have known all my life and would invite over for a steak or burger and ask how her and her husband are raising their youngest to be included and a part of their family just like their other children and how as a woman and mother she has been able to withstand the lies and attacks on her character. As a 25 year old painfully honest, grounded, right from wrong thinker, driven in faith, leadership, and values; I am an image of a Palin supporter and others like her.  I am a woman thankful for finally having a "famous" woman of Sarah Palin's CHARACTER to lead and inspire us in this world.
(This was something I felt drawn to post online in regards to a forum that asked if any women actually supported Sarah Palin. I am not one to respond to those type of things, but I couldn't be stopped!)

What traits do you admire in people? Do you find yourself getting more involved when the world seems to be slipping from ethics? Would love to hear from what drives you each and every day!

Blessings, Jenna