Let Go & Let God

When you fail a class, you start to question your value, your worth, your ability to succeed in life. You feel like you'll never amount to anything. You question all the work you've put forth the last 5 years. You cry. You yell. You mope.

I tweeted sometime in the last 2 weeks "maybe if I just keep myself busy enough I won't have to deal with my feelings" I've been feeling quite angsty and emotional with failing my class. I felt like a disappoint to my parents. I felt undeserving of love. My brokenness consumed me, the reality of my brokenness consumed me.

I tried all my fix methods. Go for a run. Pray, write angry letters to God. Sleep in, stay up late. Write. Talk it out. Put on a face to people who ask me how I am. Surround myself with people all the time so I don't have to be alone with my thoughts. Read. Paint. Social media numbing... Literally everything that usually makes me feel better I tried... none of it work. I knew I needed to go be in nature - alone with my thoughts, and with my God.

So with my Saturday I got up at 630 and by 710 headed for Old Man's Cave in Hocking Hills. It was just what the doctor ordered. I stepped onto the trail and for the first time since October probably I felt alive. I could breathe again. I hadn't even begun to process what the Lord and I were going to work through, but I was free, free to converse honestly with my Father.

Friday night I was starting to convince myself that I was going to transfer to OSU and change my major to English with a minor in journalism. I was going to become an editor, and write a book. That's important to note for what comes next.

As I began walking I was taking in the beauty around me. I love... LOVE waterfalls, and the sound of water. It's peaceful, powerful, and relaxing all at the same time for me. But soon my path carried me into a steady path where I began to think, and to pray, to tell God what was really going on in this wounded heart of mine (not that He didn't know, but I was holding onto it and needed to surrender it to Him before I would ever come out of this funk).

I'm not okay, and I'm not okay that I'm not okay. I'm not okay with the fact that I failed a class. I'm not okay with the fact that I'll have another semester of school, when I'm already a year behind what I should have been. I'm not okay that my family's not Catholic and don't know God's love and I want to make them know Jesus. I'm not okay with the fact that I'm not in a relationship. I'm not okay that I struggle with a sexual sin and it's a battle everyday for me. I'm not okay that I had to back down from something I had once said yes to. I'm not in control and I'm not okay with the fact that I'm not in control of my life. 

Cedar Falls Hocking Hills 

But it's okay - it's okay that you're not okay because you are bringing it before the Lord. He blesses our vulnerability. Look around you - God made this palace, and He made it so beautiful. He also made you, and because He made you, He loves you and you have value and worth. He cares for the birds and the bees, how much more must He care for you, His beloved daughter?!

That's a little sample of how my prayer went yesterday. I've always known that I have a desperate need to be in control of every situation. My plan to transfer schools and change my major was most likely a way I was trying to control a situation that I actually have no control over. We like to do Texas Two Step dance nights here and multiple guys have commented on my need to let them lead when we dance... I'm not so good at trusting other people to lead me. I'm not so good at trusting God has a plan for my life.

I read a reflection once on Mary's fiat "be it done unto me according to thy word". In her yes, she is saying "I don't know what all of this means, but I choose to say yes to you God. And then she continues to wait in hope, with expectant faith. Whereas I, and I'm sure many others, say okay God, I surrender all to you, I give you my life. And we wait, or so we think, but actually we're wishing for concrete, specific things to happen. We don't wait with expectant faith and hope but we wish for the Lord to work in the way we plan out for our lives. However, we said yes to the Lord in a moment and He blesses that guess and works with us.

A prominent theme this advent, for me, has been that so long as we are on earth there will be barriers that keep us from fully knowing the Lord, but the Lord wants to overcome those barriers. With that thought coming in the first week of Advent I decided I would pray a rosary every day in Advent for the intention of the Lord purifying my heart. I knew I had barriers that needed to be overcome, but I didn't know what they were. I made this commitment to the Lord in faith. I had no idea what it meant, or what it was going to look like, but I am confident the Lord has taken this leap of faith and vulnerability and ran with it. I know He has been purifying my love: my love for others, and purifying my desire for my future vocation, for the love that will some day be exchanged between my husband and I. I am confidant He is moving in ways to prepare for this vocation I so deeply desire. And I think He took my prayer and brought to light the biggest barrier, holding me back from loving Him freely - my desperate need for control.

And so maybe you're in the same spot I am, or maybe you know someone like me. I feel like I've rambled a bit here, but I also know I wanted to share this experience. The Lord, in His goodness, helps us overcome barriers in our lives, to be able to love Him and serve Him freely.

I want to leave you with thoughts I'd written down after this realization.

"Be still and know I am God" Ps 46:10

The Lord will fight for you, you need only be still. Exodus 14:14

Let go & let God

Just be. Don't do, just be.

The journey of a hike in an unknown area is a lot like the journey of our live. There are fallen tress and rocks to climb over. The path is bumpy in some parts and smooth in others. And there are lots of little surprises along the way, where Jesus lets us know He is with us.

Psalm 145

Broken, Healed, Renewed

Monday afternoon I sobbed for three hours - aching because I failed a class. It meant I was pushed back another semester. I'd already been pushed back a whole year, now another semester. It meant I failed. It meant I didn't perform well enough. It meant I wasn't good enough. It meant my brokenness was showing.
I ran to the chapel, I ran to Jesus. I yelled at Jesus. Why did you let this happen? What lesson could I learn from this? I was mad, but I ran to Him. I knew He would console me. He knows me better than I know myself. He knows the desires of my heart(Ps 34). He knows the plans he has for me(Jer 29:11).
Tuesday I wallowed, and I studied, and I wallowed. I didn't put on a face. I didn't try to be cheerful. I was terrified. Wednesday morning's exam determined my entire future. If I failed that exam, and in turn also failed that class I would no longer be a nursing student.  My whole life, especially the last 5 years has all been working towards the goal of being a nurse. I found what I wanted to do in nursing this year. I found my life's purpose. If I failed, all that work would be worthless. I don't know what I would've done with my life. I tried not to dwell on that. I frequently turned to Jesus. I read a reflection that reminded me I can take comfort in the fact that I have a committed relationship with Jesus Christ, that my worth and my value rest in Him.
Wednesday, I showed up. I did my best. I had a panic attack. My best was enough. I passed the exam, I passed the class. Wednesday I cried tears of joy. Nothing else mattered. I get to continue on my path to be a nurse. Finals were over that day. We drank, we ate pizza, we watched TV - we celebrated.
Friday, today, I met with the professor for the class I failed. I barely failed, mind you. There was hope of finding an error somewhere. But there was no error, no miracle moment. There were frustrations. Most of the questions I missed, I almost picked the right answer - I knew the right answer, but I questioned. That was frustrating. But my professor was wonderful. She was encouraging. She was supportive. I can do this. I have it in me, but there are some efforts to be made. I met with my adviser this week too and she was nothing but encouraging. It's another hurdle for me to jump over, another hole to jump through, but we know I'll come out of it.

So why am I sharing all of this? Maybe it's because I'm an external processor, but more so it's because I have learned a few things.

I've learned I'm broken. I've said a multitude of times lately that I've learned more about myself this semester than I have in my entire life, and this continues to ring true as time goes on. I've learned my anxiety issue is worse than I make it out to be. I've learned there's an issue here that needs work, but I am willing to do anything to overcome this hurdle.

I've learned I'm loved. If there is one thing I've taken away from the past week it is that I am loved and that my hard work does not go unnoticed. Sometimes it feels that I am unloved. Sometimes it feels like I'm unwanted. I often believe the lie that I am not enough, that I'm not going to succeed, that my dreams will never come true. These lies obviously plagued me with failing. But the Lord is good, He is ever faithful.When I learned I failed, I was not alone. I was surrounded by people who loved me. I was able to run to Jesus. I had friends love me so well. A friend brought me a card with wine, chocolate, nail polish, and feel good movies. She spent the evening with me so I wouldn't have to be alone. I received hugs. I received encouragement. Friends reminded me my worth rests in Christ alone. Friends encouraged me as I prepared for my coming exams, as I lost all motivation. They checked in on me, asked me how I was doing. I did not, for one second, doubt that I was loved. I began to believe in myself again. By God's grace, I picked up the pieces and we're moving forward. Decisions have been made for changes to happen.

I've learned more of the Lord's faithfulness. Even in the chaos of this week, a girl came to look at my house, to sublease from me so I could move into a more suited living situation - and she said yes. I needed that yes this week. I've spent the last hour packing my room because I'm moving Sunday.

Lastly, as it is Advent, I am reminded that the Lord is preparing me for something greater than this world, than this life. I am reminded that despite all circumstances, there is hope, because there is a God who loves us enough to die for us. I may be broken, my brokenness may have become very real to me, but I will hold onto hope and allow my heart to be healed and renewed in the love and mercy of Christ.

The Lord takes our brokenness and works with it. He takes us as we are and uses us as instruments of His love. I just want to leave with this quote I found the other day, before all this happened. It spoke to me then, and continues to console my heart. Jesus gets more of my heart now because of this experience.

Broken things are precious. We eat broken bread because we share in the death of our Lord and his broken life. Broken flowers give perfume. Broken incense is used in adoration. A broken ship saved Paul and many other passengers on the way to Rome. Sometimes the only way the good Lord can get into some hearts is to break them. – Fulton Sheen

Lessons in Love

I want to write this - I want to write so bad, but it's one of those times when I sit here just staring at the blank screen trying to put to words the workings in my heart.

Each day, each week I am learning more about what it means to do what I want to do - nursing, specifically pediatrics. I loved OB nursing, but I feel at home in peds nursing. I am more comfortable and confident than ever before in a nursing field. This week I had a unique patient whose story I can't share do to HIPAA, but we were reading his history and he has spent most of his life in the hospital - as many of these kids on my unit do {hematology (blood) and oncology (cancer)}. So there was a lot to his case, and there were situations where I kept asking myself what would I have done if I were the nurse in that situation... and I didn't come up with an answer. I did; however, catch myself with very judgmental thoughts only for us to have a guest speaker tell us her own story. It opened my eyes to a world unknown to me. A world where girls are raped as young as 5 years old and given recreational drugs at 7. Who lived on the streets, who worked as prostitute - a girl born into the drug culture. And this woman sat before us as an open book. She laid out her life's story before us. She's been clean/sober for 10 years now. And as she told us her story she said the one thing she wanted us to take away with us is unconditional love. She said the best thing we can do for our patients is to love them unconditionally. We don't know their story. I sat and listened with tears in my eyes. This woman before me who was so broken - who was vulnerable with us - and her vulnerability changed my life. I felt guilty, for judging my patients family this week. I felt gratitude for the multitude of blessings I have received. And my heart broken for the multitude of people in this world who have stories similar to hers.

Since this summer I have learned more and more what it means to love unconditionally. As a
camp counselor for middle school girls I had to learn how to love them despite what I may feeling. I didn't feel like loving them - I physically didn't feel good, how was I supposed to love these girls? And our love languages, well... they didn't quite match up. It was a battle. I had to choose to love them. For once I actually experienced love being a choice. The Lord placed these children of his in my care, and I had to choose to care for them, choose to love them.

I have had to learn how to love myself unconditionally. I can't just love myself if I meet certain requirements (weight, appearance, level of success, amount of money, work, service, etc). I have had to learn to surrender to the Lord in a new way, and found new freedom in that. I have learned that I need to choose to accept the mercy the Lord offers me each moment.

Lastly, I have learned the importance of sharing the love of Christ with my patients - not by preaching with words, but with the way I care for them, the way I talk to them, the attention I give them. My little guy this week lifted my heart and brought me joy - we played peek-a-boo and other ridiculous games that you only do with children. I loved on him and he soaked up every minute of it.
He needed a little TLC, but the thing is - every patient in the hospital needs a little TLC.. you're not on this earth for you... you're not here for you. You are here for something so much more, in a world that is so much larger than yourself - but that is something most overlooked in this world. So I want to leave you with this message a friend sent me this week that reminded me of the power of the work I will one do, of the work the Lord is preparing me to do for all my life. It is long, but I really encourage you to read it all the way through.


Yesterday I overheard a nursing student snark, "yeah, this is why I'm in nursing school - so I can pass trays." And if I hadn't been up to my eyeballs in other things to do for my patients, I would have stopped and said: You've already missed the point entirely. I'm not sure why you DO think you're here. If you hope to be a good nurse (or coworker, or person with a heart), you're going to spend the majority of your working life doing things you SO mistakenly think are beneath you. You are going to pass trays with a smile - excitement even, when your patient finally gets to try clear liquids. You will even open the milk and butter the toast and cut the meat. You will feed full-grown adults from those trays, bite by tedious, hard-to-swallow bite. You will, at times, get your own vital signs or glucoscans, empty Foley bags and bedside commodes without thinking twice. You will reposition the same person, move the same three pillows, 27 times in one shift because they can't get comfortable. You will not only help bathe patients, but wash and dry between the toes they can't reach. Lotion and apply deodorant. Scratch backs. Nystatin powder skin folds. Comb hair. Carefully brush teeth and dentures. Shave an old man's wrinkled face. Because these things make them feel more human again. You will NOT delegate every "code brown," and you will handle them with a mix of grace and humor so as not to humiliate someone who already feels quite small. You will change ostomy appliances and redress infected and necrotic wounds and smell smells that stay with you, and you will work hard not to show how disgusted you may feel because you will remember that this person can't walk away from what you have only to face for a few moments. You will fetch ice and tissues and an extra blanket and hunt down an applesauce when you know you don't have time to. You will listen sincerely to your patient vent when you know you don't have time to. You will hug a family member, hear them out, encourage them, bring them coffee the way they like it, answer what you may feel are "stupid" questions - twice even - when you don't have time to. You won't always eat when you're hungry or pee when you need to because there's usually something more important to do. You'll be aggravated by Q2 narcotic pushes, but keenly aware that the person who requires them is far more put upon. You will navigate unbelievably messy family dramas, and you will be griped at for things you have no control over, and be talked down to, and you will remain calm and respectful (even though you'll surely say what you really felt to your coworkers later), because you will try your best to stay mindful of the fact that while this is your everyday, it's this patient or family's high-stress situation, a potential tragedy in the making. Many days you won't feel like doing any of these things, but you'll shelve your own feelings and do them the best you can anyway. HIPAA will prevent you from telling friends, family, and Facebook what your work is really like. They'll guess based off what ridiculousness Gray's Anatomy and the like make of it, and you'll just have to haha at the poop and puke jokes. But your coworkers will get it, the way this work of nursing fills and breaks, fills and breaks your heart. Fellow nurses, doctors, NPs and PAs, PCAs, unit clerks, phlebotomists, respiratory therapists, physical and occupational therapists, speech therapists, transport, radiology, telemetry, pharmacy techs, lab, even dietary and housekeeping -- it's a team sport. And you're not set above the rest as captain. You will see you need each other, not just to complete the obvious tasks but to laugh and cry and laugh again about these things only someone else who's really been there can understand. You will see clearly that critical thinking about and careful delivery of medications are only part of the very necessary care you must provide. Blood gushing adrenaline-pumping code blue ribs breaking beneath your CPR hands moments are also part, but they're not what it's all about. The "little" stuff is rarely small. It's heavy and you can't carry it by yourself. So yes, little nursling, you are here to pass tray