In Memory of a Lost Family Member

36 hours ago my dog was happy as could be. She was roaming free out here in the country, rather than being trapped in town where she spent most of her life. Now she's dead. You must understand that I am not writing this because I am bitter, because I'm not. I am writing this because I'm sad. I really don't know how else to properly express my feelings than to write them.

My family got Hazel after a couple years of not having a dog. Our first dog had been shot when I was about 8 for chasing cattle. When I was about 11 we got Hazel. She was a cute little puppy. Hehe. Looked like a rottweiler with floppy ears. We lived in town with her for about 4 years, and she was miserable the whole time. She was always behind a fence, or on a chain, and it made her kind of mean. Not really mean, but if you didn't know her, you had better not approach her. We had a lot of fun in town though. Made a lot of memories with her there. Just like a family would with any dog. We went on walks and runs and she loved to pull us on our rollerblades. We played soccer with her, jumped on the trampoline, and even just sat and petted her quietly when we were sad. She was the one that we could talk to any time and she would just listen. Not give petty advice, not try to tell us that things were ok when they really weren't. She played in the streams in the mountains with us, and slept outside our tent when we went camping. Then, about 6 months ago we moved out to the country and she was basically free to roam, but she never went far. Out here in the country, we rode bikes with her, and watched the day to day progress of the chicks as they grew. We played in the snow and the wind. She was just like another child in our family. Except she was special. She had a self-assigned job. Protector of all things that she considered her territory. She protected our cat when it had kittens, (again.) She followed my 2 year old sister everywhere she went outside to make sure that my sister was always safe. Hehe. She even trapped our neighbors in their cars when they came over if she didn't like their scent. My family loved Hazel, and Hazel loved us back.

Yesterday, Hazel did something that my brothers and I thought she would never do. She managed to get into a cage containing some adolescent chickens, and killed 6 of them. Once a dog has killed a chicken, and gotten a taste for their blood, they can't stop killing them. It's like a drug. A dog that kills chickens cannot be kept. 

Yesterday, we had to shoot Hazel. We all cried. I think even my Dad cried a little bit. It was really hard. We dug her a grave, and buried her. This was the result.

(That's my brother Enoch's handwriting. She was his best friend.)

Now that she's gone, it feels as if something is missing from this home. I feel on edge. She was the protector. I'm sure she still is, but not in the same way. I miss walking up the front steps and seeing her laying above where the kittens are, protecting them while their mother is getting something to eat. I miss hearing her bark when people pull into our driveway. I miss sitting on the back steps and petting her. If you really want to get technical about how much I miss her, know that I'm crying as I write this.

Hazel, I miss you. I missed you quite a bit today in fact. The bike ride without you was very lonely. 

I love you. See you in Heaven.

My Life is One of Ups and Downs

Sometimes I wonder how I can be so happy one moment and more depressed than I ever have been the next. It has never made sense to me. I mean, I know. I'm a hormonal teenager. I'm going to have mood swings. But even before. When I was that scrawny little kid down the street that was too smart for his own good. I had major mood swings. As major as a child's mood swings can get anyway. Today was one of those says. Today the Boston Marathon was bombed. so far there are 3 dead and scores wounded. One of the dead is a small child. When I heard about this, I felt like a small piece of me died. These people are my American brothers and sisters. I would proudly stand in for them if they could live another day. Alas, I could not. This made me really sad. It depressed me enough that I couldn't concentrate on my homework without a movie or music playing to get this event off of my mind. Then I went to a wrestling banquet put on by my wrestling team to present all of the awards. While there I got the outstanding freshman award. Seriously, this made my day. I was so happy. When I got home, I started to see all of this Boston Marathon bombing stuff again. And it made me super sad again. I might just have to write a separate post on that needless waste of human life. These ups and downs happen every day. Not as big as right now though. I guess that I kind of get used to it. I lost right when a win was needed most this season several times in wrestling. Those ups and downs were huge. Many times I have ups and downs when I am thinking. I will think of a person that makes me really happy. As I'm thinking about that person, often times I will remember something that we did together, or something that they said. And it will make me think about something else. Like those in the world who are starving. Or the terminally ill. Or the amount of evil in the world. Or even about the lack of understanding that our world seems to have about true happiness. Maybe even that dove that I shot the other day at the feed store. I feel bad about that. I think about the wonderful things I did as a child. The time spent with family. The happy things I've done. Then I think about the point many years ago when I was ready to take my own life. Maybe I just think too much. I was happy the day that my brother Spencer went to the hospital for what I just thought was growing pains. I promptly became sad when I learned that it wasn't just growing pains, but diabetes, and that he was on his way to primary children's hospital. Then again, I was sad the day that my Grandma died. The day that my Great Aunt June died as well. But my family was there to make me happy at those times. Another time, I was sad and wallowing in self pity at the terrible person that I make myself out to be, after I got mad at my brother and threw a basketball at his head while playing at the church. Thankfully, a dear friend of mine was kind enough to find me out in the hall and teach me some piano duets to cheer me up. It worked. I still remember those duets. Many people say that all the pain and sorrow balances out with the joy. I have to disagree. I've decided that the joy in life is way greater than the pain and sorrow if you let it be. However, if you don't let the joy overcome the sorrow, it won't. You will be as happy as you determine to be. I figure that if I determine to be happy no matter what the problem, I'll do a lot more good than if I stayed sad. Granted, there are times when it's appropriate to be sad, but I'm over dramatic sometimes.
So today, if only today, I'm going to be happy. :) You should be happy too! :D

Who Am I?

There have been several things lately that have made me question, who am I? Deep down. Not the mask you see on the surface. The mask that I have wanted to become real for so long. I have always strived to become better. To become a person that other people respect and admire. A person that will inspire others to be better. A person that people would look to for advise when they need it. Honestly, I kind of took life like a competition to see who could be the best. At everything. Although those ambitions are worthy ambitions, I think that in trying to mold myself into who I want to be, I have lost who I am. It seems like helping other people figure out who they are is easier than trying to figure this question out for myself. I just wonder, how could something that I knew so well as a small child have slipped my mind? It doesn't make sense to me.
The difficult thing is that I'm not even completely sure that the person that I act like now isn't who I am deep down. I'm not sure that who I act like now is who I am or if who I am is really something else. If you can understand that question, you can understand what I'm trying to figure out.
This is kind of a pointless post, but this question is a big one. I may as well ask you the same question.
Is who you act like now really who you are or is who you really are something else?

I Believe There are Angels Among Us

The other day I was reading The Bible in the book of Hebrews. Chapter 13, verse 2 says, "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." and I thought, "Well, that would be cool, to entertain an angel. But it is different now then it is back then. People don't come to your door and ask for food or shelter." But, was I really correct in that thinking? I was in Salt Lake City over the weekend again. I realized something while I was there. (Why do I always realize things in big cities?) This scripture applied to more than just people coming to your home. I forgot to bring money to buy the homeless people that I saw a meal. I felt really bad about that. As I was walking to the car to leave, I passed a homeless black man. He was holding a sign asking for food. He was so respectful, and looked like a sincerely nice guy. That understates it. As I walked past, he stepped back and and nodded in a gesture of respect. I did the same. But there was something in his eyes. Something indescribable. He was so... Oh, I don't know. Brilliant? Unique? Humble? I don't have words to describe him properly. I wanted to do something for him so bad. But it was time to leave. I pondered later though about this experience. Was this man an angel? I'll never know. But I'd like to believe that he was. Now, I'm not saying that all homeless people are angels. It made me wonder though. How many times have I passed by an angel unawares? Maybe it's common. Maybe it's not. I don't know. What I'm trying to say is this.
How many angels have we walked by? How many of them did we ignore? How often have they blessed us without our knowing? We may never know the answers to those questions. But maybe we should start looking a little bit harder.

In Honor of The Fallen

Lately in history we have been studying wars. We just finished with Korea. I had respect for the men and women who served, but I never really understood how much they gave. I still do not fully, but I have a better idea. I came across a story on theblaze.com today that stilled my heart and made me think. It wasn't really even a story. It was just a series of pictures from Vietnam. I went from there and found some other pictures of those fallen. Sometimes the most powerful way to convey a message is silence.
Now is one of those times.

In honor of the fallen, I lift now my voice.

I know they can hear me, for they live on as heroes.

In the past, my freedom I've taken lightly.

I took for granted your fateful choice.

You chose the path taken by few.

And gave your lives for the birth of freedom anew.

I'm sorry things are this way, that you must die.

But I thank you now,

and with tears, say goodbye.

The Unseen Value of Failure

Many times, I think, people forget the great value of failure.
Let us first define failure. According to thefreedictionary.com, failure is this.
fail·ure  (flyr)

n.

1. The condition or fact of not achieving the desired end or ends: the failure of an experiment.

2. One that fails: a failure at one's career.

3. The condition or fact of being insufficient or falling short: a crop failure.

4. A cessation of proper functioning or performance: a power failure.

5. Nonperformance of what is requested or expected; omission: failure to report a change of address.

6. The act or fact of failing to pass a course, test, or assignment.

7. A decline in strength or effectiveness.

8. The act or fact of becoming bankrupt or insolvent.

Notice that the words finished or done or any of their synonyms are not in any of those definitions.
Failure is simply the opportunity to go try something else. Just because you fail at one thing doesn't mean you can't be excellent in another.
This reminds me of a song that my brothers and I sing on occasion. It is called, "A Barber's Tale."
It goes like this:
There once was a young lad named Jimmy Mcgiver.
Who longed with a passion to be a high diver.
The platform each day he would climb to the top.
But each time attempted, would just bellyflop.
So Jimmy decided this wasn't his flair,
and switched his ambition to cutting folks hair.
An odd change of interests that's certainly true.
But would you believe it - That boy sure came through.
Now people come from far and near.
To see the barber of the year.
He couldn't dive to save his hide -
But his talent with hair can't be denied.
(To the tune of "Jimmy Cracks Corn, But He Don't Care")
Jimmy lacks form, but he cuts hair!
Jimmy lacks form, but he cuts hair!
Jimmy lacks form, but he cuts hair like no one else can do.

And the song continues from there. But do you see the point? Even though it is a very silly song, there is something to learn from it. Jimmy absolutely failed at diving, but instead of simply quitting and saying I'll never be any good, he found what he was good at - No matter how odd it was.
Failure has been one of the many great driving forces in my life. In wrestling, hatred of failure has pushed me past where I ever thought I could go. It has made me great. And, the many times I have failed, I stood up again. Let us ponder for a moment where I would be if I had never failed. If I had never failed, I would have a perfect wrestling record. I would be a straight A's student. I would have won every music and art competition I have ever entered and my entries in the fair would have all gotten 1st prize. And none of it would mean anything to me.
Failure has taught me what success means. Without failure there can be no success.
I heard once that most millionaires go bankrupt 3 times before they finally get rich. I absolutely believe it. So next time I see an opportunity, I'm going to take it. And if I do fail, there are still 999,999 opportunities for me to find. I am no longer going to sit back and simply wait for an easier opportunity. Because if the work is not hard, the payment is taken lightly. And payment taken lightly is wasted. So I'm going to stop worrying about what could go wrong, and start focusing on what could go right. Because that's how success comes. And, if I do fail, I'll pick up the pieces and move on. There are a million opportunities in this world, I'm going to go find one. Hey, you should come too! :)

Rising Up

Last year while I was still in Middle School I had an undefeated wrestling season - until the last match.
This year I went into the Idaho State Championships seeded #1 and lost it in the end.
This is the story of success and failure in my life.
Last year, my 8th grade year, I went into the biggest tournament of my life at that point seeded almost dead last. I hadn't lost a match yet, but I was seeded almost dead last. And that was fine with me. It gave me the opportunity to prove myself. And I did. I knocked out the #1 seed in the quarter finals and #4 in the semis. In the end, I won. This was one of the greatest moments of my life. I was the best 80 pound middle school wrestler in probably the whole region.
I rose up. I was great. Pain pays off.
The next tournament was the last tournament of the year for me. I was on top of the world. I dominated all the way to the finals. In the finals I pinned my opponent. He was stuck for 30 seconds on his back. I have pictures to prove it. And the referee didn't call it. I was ahead 4-0 with 26 seconds remaining. With 10 seconds I made a mistake, and he pulled a 5 point move and won, 5-4.
I had failed. It was over. I wasn't undefeated.
This win meant so much to me. It meant so much to everyone around me. And I lost it.
This loss did more than break my heart and crush my dreams. It skinned them alive, made them roll in a pile of salt, and beat them with a club before cremating them. That day I decided that I wanted to be the best. Not just 2nd best. Because losing hurt. Bad.
I started this year's wrestling as a small freshmen with large hopes. I started this season with a bang. I tore it up, because I remembered losing. I did well at every tournament I went to, and in all except for one, found myself in the finals. I lost every finals match that I got into except for 2. District and one other. But that was ok because I just kept getting better. I walked into the State tournament seeded #1. I pinned my way through the 1st day without much trouble. The evening of that 1st day I was reading the Bible. I read 1st Corinthians 10:12. It says, "Wherefore he who thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall." and I thought, "God is talking to me. He is telling me that I am overconfident and that I need to take this seriously." But I am foolish. I didn't listen to God. And it cost me my state title.
I walked into State the 2nd day once again, on top of the world. 
This was all of my dreams coming true. This was hours of practice and conditioning paying off. Days of eating little or nothing so that I could make weight and hours more of watching film when I was just too tired to practice anymore. 
There was no way I could lose. I had beat this guy 4 times this season.
I walked out onto the mat and started very well. I quickly got a takedown and gained control. But I stopped thinking about the match and started thinking about how good winning would feel. I started making mistakes, just little things that I would normally never do. Pretty soon I was down several points and wondering how I got there. In the end, I made a fatal mistake and got pinned.
After losing I walked about 20 feet off the mat and collapsed. I just couldn't take it. I had dreamed about this moment for years. Except in my dreams I wasn't the one who had lost. In my dreams I walked off the mat victorious. This did more than torture my dreams. All of those people who had hoped for me, supported me, even prayed for me. Those people who had spent time and money to see me succeed. Their hopes for me were shattered.
I cried and prayed for a long time after this. I just couldn't believe it. It took me a long time to figure out why God wanted this to happen, because I know everything happens for a reason.
I finally figured it out.
Once again, God wants me to rise up. He know that my character is more important than me winning. He knew that losing would be hard for me, but he also knew that it would teach me a lot more than winning ever could have. I guess what I'm trying to say is, 
God wants me to be great, therefore he makes life hard for me in order to teach me how to be great. He knows that the only way I will ever improve is if I step up and grit my teeth and move on even though all I want to do is lay there and cry. So I am going to do it. 
Today I am going to rise up. Will you join me?