Being in the Know...

I took a hiatus from blogging. Maybe it was because I didn't have much to say; not sure. I think that I just needed time to breathe. To focus. To regroup. Mostly, I've been so busy with life, love, kids, career, finances...the list goes on and on. What I really needed was time to get to know Him.

See, I've always known that there was a God. My Mom taught me to read from the Bible. She drilled it into me that you were supposed to say your prayers. Do good deeds. Follow the 10 commandments. Treat others like you want to be treated. So on and so on. Honestly, it became monotonous. God wanted alot and what about all those other people that skate by on living less than holy and always seemed to be blessed?

One big thing that's been eating at me is that I've always known ABOUT Jesus. He was born in Bethlehem. He preached and told parables. Performed miracles. Pharisees and Saducees didn't like Him. He died for my sins and came back in 3 days. I mentioned him in my prayers. Said His name out loud when the kids plucked my last nerve. But...I don't feel like I KNEW Jesus. And this BOTHERED me. Deep down; just bothered me.

So about a month ago, I talked to God about this in my prayers. I asked him to help me grow closer to Jesus. I wanted to know Him. Really know Him. To know why He chose to die for Me when I don't deserve that kind of sacrifice. (None of us do.) Know why He loved me when I certainly wasn't worth it. 

I went a step further and told God to remove those people and things from my life that didn't need to be in it. And boy, did He listen! As a matter of fact, he removed the one person that I wanted most to stick around. And oh, how that hurt. Like a bandage being ripped off times a thousand--hurt! And He shook up some other things in my life as well. That raise I got came w/ a ton more of responsibility than I saw coming. The older kids decided that they were going to depart from all that I had taught them and when their plans backfired--Mom took the brunt of the blame. Guys, it felt like there was an earthquake under my feet and a hurricane at my window. I couldn't get my bearings and I was no longer in control. Which is a big thing to me. Honestly, I love being in control. So, I learned the hard way to be careful what you ask for.

Anyway, I was so upset that I became rebellious. Questioned His judgement and decided that I would only offer the sacrifice of prayer when I needed to because in my mind, He didn't care so I wasn't going to waste my breath or time. My faith was in the toilet and inside I hurt so bad that I would tell myself to take it hour by hour because I was just--DONE! This went on for weeks.

Until God decided to use my 11 year old daughter to wake me at 4 in the morning for a discussion on sinful nature. See, I had my Bible app set to Job because in my mind, that's how I felt. Just like Job. But this particular morning, I had a hard time going back to sleep so something said, read the Bible. At 4 a.m! So, I open my app and low and behold, my app was set to Romans. This is what I found:

Romans 8: 5-9 (NLT) ⁵ Those who are dominated by the sinful nature think about sinful things, but those who are controlled by the Holy Spirit think about things that please the Spirit.  

⁶ So letting your sinful nature control your mind leads to death. But letting the Spirit control your mind leads to life and peace.  

⁷ For the sinful nature is always hostile to God. It never did obey God’s laws, and it never will.  

⁸ That’s why those who are still under the control of their sinful nature can never please God.

⁹ But you are not controlled by your sinful nature. You are controlled by the Spirit if you have the Spirit of God living in you. (And remember that those who do not have the Spirit of Christ living in them do not belong to him at all.)

I knew this came straight from God because 10 years ago, He used a dream of me and her to pull me into church. Anyway, I felt sick inside because I knew that I was wrong. I thought about how I feel when my kids disrespect me. And refuse to listen even when I have their best interest at heart. I could only imagine how God felt and I was not too proud of myself. So...I started to take a long hard look. At myself. My life. My relationship w/ God AND with Jesus. And what I saw was something that I didn't like. Somehow, I'd stopped trusting God with my life, my heart, and my family. I'd gotten so complacent that looking back, even my prayers seemed insincere and just plain half-hearted. I'm surprised that he even listened.

I mulled over those verses that I'd read, thanked Him, and went to sleep. The next morning, when I prayed, immediately, I broke down. Apologized. And BEGGED for forgiveness. I asked him to comfort me, I told him that I trust him, and I meant it. Then I told him that I wanted to get to KNOW Jesus. Not about him, but know Him. And something in me just changed. How I think. How I feel. The way that I want to live.

So here lately, I'm in my Word constantly. Bible study apps and devotionals. Tithing. Getting back into church. And surrounding myself with Jesus. I can't tell you how long, if ever, that I've felt so much joy. And peace. And this feeling that whatever it is, I don't have to always try to handle it myself because He loves me, has a plan, and if I glorify Him through my trial, whatever the result is will be better than what I had. Because He promised. And his Mercy is new everyday.

One day, I was reading a devotional by Rick Warren and he said God can bring you closer to him with pain than he can with comfort. How right he was. Glory be to the one who was, is, and always will be!

Lacking...

So I'm sitting here and all around me are content kiddos who have no idea how sad I am inside. I know that I should be grateful for my home, career, family, and just to be able to breathe but it feels like something is missing. It's hard to be happy when your life is lacking. I guess that means it's time to get back on track with the Almighty as it seems that life is empty without HIM.

Sadness and Hope for the Future

     It's been a couple of years since I've posted anything. I've been trying to write but then I get writers block and suddenly all the words that I want to put on paper just float away. It never fails. Today, though, is different. It's not a good day. I feel like I need to empty my heart and head so that I can feel better.

     Most people don't know this, but I'm sad almost all the time. Have been for awhile. I'm just really good at hiding it. That perpetual sadness that creeps in whenever I feel some semblance of being happy. Here lately, I can no longer contain it; it's so present that my younger kids can see it. I hate that. I don't like for them to know that most of time, I feel like there's no other color in this world but gray. And it's not just any one thing; it's everything and nothing at the same time. For years, I have felt like I've loved and lost, tried and failed. Sometimes, it feels like, I'm just barely holding on to the world by the skin of my teeth. I'm going to be flung into space at any second. Everything is out of my control. No, I'm not suicidal or anything like that-- I just feel like I'm slight. My spirit doesn't feel full. Somehow, I'm lacking. Something somewhere is missing. And no matter what possession I acquire or what goal I accomplish, it's just not enough. I can't feel whole. Not as a person, as a woman, as a Mother, as a Nurse, as a sister, as a daughter, as anything. The worst part is Christmas brings all this front and center. Every single year. 

     I know this is foul, but I hate Christmas. I have for a long time. Thirty years to be exact. I hate holidays period. No, I'm not a Scrooge. I don't run around saying, "Bah Humbug!" I know it's supposed to be a time for peace, love, joy, celebration, and family. I get all of that. But, when I see everyone around me celebrating with their parents and siblings, and I can't -- I won't even lie. It just makes me sick. To my heart. Of course, I buy the kids their presents and I put up their tree and I listen to the oohs and aahhs but inside, I feel lost and empty. It goes back to this: as a young girl, my Mother was going through a nasty divorce. I was the oldest of three kids. We didn't have the same father so with all the problems of my Mom's past, the odds of us staying together didn't look so good. Actually, the odds were quite dismal. Eventually, we were split up. They ended up with their Dad and I ended up with an Aunt who didn't quite like me. She was an aunt by marriage and she already had a lot of kids so her taking me wasn't something either of us looked forward to. That year, I prayed hard every night for God to fix my family. Every morning, I woke up and I was right there in my Aunt Martha's house just as miserable as the day before.  My last resort was Santa. I wrote a letter and asked Santa for one just one thing-- please put my family back together again. I told Santa, I'll be a good girl. I'd do all my homework. Keep my room clean. Stop wetting the bed. Anything. I promised: I'll do anything. He wouldn't have to bring me another present ever. Just grant me that one gift. I colored that envelope all pretty and handed it to the postman. And that year, Santa really let me down. I waited patiently all that day. Nothing. I was about 8 years old, and this is how I came to the realization that he and Christmas magic wasn't real. At all. If he was, there wouldn't have been tears and longing, baby dolls, books, and games. I didn't want any of that crap! I just wanted what I never should have lost to begin with. Oh if only people knew my struggle and my story...

     So anyway, Santa became a jolly fat man who only stood by and didn't grant wishes and I became the girl who couldn't stand Santa. And to this day, I refuse to give him credit for my hard work and money spent. I know it's silly but it is what it is. I can't let that memory go no matter how hard I try. I have my own family yes, but I miss out on the siblings, nieces, nephews, parents. This awareness of what I don't have comes back every time the holiday decorations go up and those stupid carols play on the radio. If it's not about about Jesus and some bells, I really don't care to hear it. And yes, I've prayed about the whole family situation but I guess it's to be like Moses and the Promised Land. I'll get to see it from afar but never step foot in it. Must have really screwed up somewhere down the line. Otherwise, why would God turn a deaf ear to my pleas. Ah well...

     Come to think of it, this year just has not been the best year. I thought that 2006 was bad, but this year ran neck and neck with that one as a crappy year. I had some good moments. Buying my first home. New grandbabies. Changing jobs. Twice. But the biggest event was losing my best friend in all the world. Suddenly and without a warning. I keep thinking back that somehow I knew it was coming. 

     When we talked that last time, I could just feel it. Those words were being said as a goodbye. At that time, something in me felt compelled to put everything on the table. Oh, how we reminisced. It was like our friendship. See, growing up, we shared everything. We talked about EVERYTHING. There was God, love, Mercy, Grace, our children, their fathers, our weaknesses, our struggles, our victories, everything. I kept no secrets and she didn't judge. Just listened quietly. Sometimes, she'd offer advice other times, she'd laugh, lots of times, she hold my hands and pray. We knew that where two or more people gathered in his name, He'd was there in the midst. Her faith was so amazing and it seemed that all she saw was the goodness in everything even when I couldn't find a rainbow at the end of her life's storms. She knew that God was there and He would carry us through anything. We just had to hold steadfast, believe, have faith, and pray. Speaking of, she'd pray over someone at the drop of a dime. Strangers, anyone. I never knew someone with such a big heart and so full of compassion. For any and everybody despite all the bad things that happened in her life. She gave me this book one time called, The Color of Water. I started reading it after one of the worst days of my life. It changed me. I was heading down a dark path and God put the right person with the right tool in my life at the right time with that one. I've never been the same since. Nor do I ever want to be that woman again.

     As, I said before, the last time we talked, we laughed and almost cried but we had the most amazing conversation. Mostly about Jeremiah 29:11. I was saying that if anyone had told me that God would work that scripture in to my life, I would've half-heartedly said, "Sure," but I wouldn't have believed. I have so many different things going on in my life, that I wouldn't thought it was possible. I remarked how He made a believer out of me. She said, "Girl, don't you remember I spoke that verse over your life?" And she did. Right before I decided to go back to school and was doubtful as to how I was going to do it all. She reminded me of how I had to have faith because he only wants the best for us. Suddenly, I remembered. Then she told me her plans, that she knew God had great things in store for her.

     After we had that talk, how was I to know that, a week and a half later, she was going to be gone? Gone. Quickly. No pain. Sudden cardiac death. She fell over dead just like that. I asked God, "What happened to us growing old together?" I'd imagined us as two old ladies in a nursing home. Me all cantankerous and giving the staff hell. Her laughing and then offering to pray for me as was always her way. As fate would have it, all this was not to be. Speaking at her funeral was something I never imagined that I would ever have to do but I got through it. Strange thing is I thought I could feel her there beside me saying, "It's okay. I'm just fine." I know when she got to the pearly gates, St. Peter exclaimed, "Job well done!" She was right-- God did have something better in store for her. I'm sure she's where we all aspire to be. It doesn't make the pain any less than what it was then or is now. Twenty six years is a long time to know and grow with someone. There have been so few people in my life that I let get that close and she was one of the last ones. I have such a hard time letting people in. I don't think nor do I want to ever let anyone else take that spot in my life again. Until then, sweet dreams and sleep tight, Sistah! When my time is up, we'll meet up at the beach where the waves meet the sand and D.L. awaits. We'll laugh and hug and watch and wait. 

     On a lighter note, I've been watching these kids of mine. One of the best parts of my life is the joy they bring to it. They balance all the ugly parts of my existence. For some reason, I call my last five kids, my Poot Noots. Don't ask where I got that name from but it just seems to suit them. They came one behind the other and I enjoy spoiling them rotten. They run and laugh and play and fight and make me crazy all at the same time. They smother me with hugs and kisses and innocence. I missed out on that as a child because my own Mother just wasn't emotionally able. Wasn't her fault, just a hand she was dealt. I don't want the same for them so I try to make sure that they don't ever go a day without knowing how much I love all of them. When I'm having a bad day, I come home to them and immediately, the smiles come out. They need me, welcome me, and love me. Unconditionally. Yes, my oldest seven children love me and I them but the middles are getting to the age that Mom bothers them while the eldest are busy with their own babies, life and love. And it's okay. They have to learn to be independent for I won't be here always. I'm just so grateful that I didn't stop at seven. I would have missed out. That's for certain. For so long, I've felt abandoned and unloved by those who should care the most all my life. These youngest five make up for it hand over fist. They put magic back where there was darkness for so long.

     I'm sitting here thinking about the past eight years and of course, the upcoming year. I have three themes that I'm going to focus on: surrender, happiness, and purpose. Here's my plan: I'm going to dedicate my forties and the rest of my life to living with purpose. I want, no I have, to make a difference in someone else's life but my own. Be it my children, grandchildren, loved ones, clients, whomever. Everyday has to have and serve some type of purpose. I want to be a blessing to somebody either through thought, word, or deed. 

     I'm going to have to surrender to Him. I'm such a strong-willed person by nature; thus I have a tendency to be stubborn. I want what I want when I want it. Sad. I think it comes from being raised as an only child. You don't have to learn to share when there's no one to share with. The past couple of years, I've become sort of impatient. I'll pray for things and have such a hard time when I don't get it or when I feel like it takes too long for Him to answer. So, I'll try to do things my way and almost every time I screw it up. I don't know when or how this happened but I'm tired of being like that. It's no way to live. Luckily, He's there to pick up the pieces, discipline me, and set me straight. This coming year, my goal is going to be to surrender to His will for my life and not my own. Just completely step out on faith and let Him has with way with me. I keep saying it but I gotta live it.  I just can't think of any other way. I'm so grateful that my Heavenly Father loves me enough to let me make mistakes, forgive me, and still welcome me with open arms. With some of the things that I've done, I'm certainly not deserved. 

     Finally, happiness. I know that this is the only life that I have and I can't waste any more time. Instead of focusing on my perpetual sadness, I want to focus on the things that bring happiness to my life. Things that make me feel good inside. Think I'll start today. When I blog for 2015, the titles will start out like this. 

Happiness is...

• Hearing my Poot Noots say, "I love you, Mommy!" every single day. I didn't get a lot of  'I love yous' growing up so God really made up for most of what I lost when He blessed my life with them. When they come to my room every morning and say those three words, they make life worth living.

• Seeing my grandbabies with arms outstretched every time I walk thru the door. Just being their Grandma is enough. My best friend will never see her kids give her grandkids so that makes me love mine even more.

• Seeing rainbows peek out from behind clouds at the end of summer storms. I love thunder and lightning. Rumbling storms are my favorite. That rainbow reminds me that the best is yet to come.

• Sitting at my desk in my little home office in my very first home. I bought it about six months ago; I never thought that I'd ever have one of my own. I'd been on public assistance so long that when it dawned on me that I wasn't entitled to stand on someone else's back so my family could reap THEIR reward, it made me work even harder. I set goals and one of them was owning my own home. Paying for it with MY blood, sweat, and tears. God is so good. 

• Hugging my baby boy, Matthew-Lucas, 5, tight. One of my first patients from my Nursing Preceptorship was a five year old boy with terminal cancer. He was the same age as my son and I even wrote about him a couple of years ago. He died recently and all I can think of is that I bet his Mom would turn over Heaven and Hell to hug him one more time. This is going to be her worst Christmas ever. Therefore, I'll hug my own son even tighter because...

• My daughter, Yasmine, looking back at me with her smokey black eyes. She was hit by a car recently on one of the busiest roads in this city. I know that she could have been killed but He chose to spare her life. I thank God. She's a miracle and I'm in awe of that young lady. He's got plans for my girl's life. All my kids. I can't wait to see what they're going to grow up to be. Oh wait a minute. Actually, I can wait. I want to enjoy every minute.

• Being able to work from home so that I'll be the first person my kiddos see when they walk thru the door. I don't wanna miss anything else. They're all I have in this world so they deserve to have a Mama whose present.

• Signing RN behind my name. I worked hard to get it and that's not lost on me. I sign my name with pride. Sometimes, I practice it because it reminds me that God stood on His promise to prosper me. Jeremiah 29:11 

     This is my longest post ever. Wouldn't you know it, with all this writing...I'm starting to feel better already!

Mission Accomplished!

     This week has been CRAZY!!! First, a bit of good news-- I've finished what I started so long ago. I've earned my Degree in Nursing!!! Words cannot explain where my heart is right now, but I can say this: I couldn't have done any of this without him. I'm here to tell you that GOD is GOOD!

     Oh...how he loves me. He takes care of all our needs. He forgives even when we doubt and sin. He listens to my prayers and knows me better than I know myself. He's the greatest thing that has ever happened in my life and oh how I love Him. Throughout my adult life, I've kept one scripture in my heart and mind: Proverbs 3:5-6. There are times when I felt tested. There are times when I was disappointed. There were even times when I questioned my faith and Him and each time, He showed me better than anyone could tell me.

     This Nursing school thing started out as a dream, then a whim, then reality set in. I'm a single mama with a dozen kids and not the best support system. How on earth was I going to do this when I was just barely hanging on??? Then, I prayed about it. Not only did I want to be a Nurse but I wanted to make sure that I took something from it. I wanted to make sure that my patients got something from me and that I would grow as a person with each and every encounter. Well...He gave me what I asked for. I can remember almost all of my patients and their situations have demonstrated to me that there are always people who are worse off so I have to be thankful for where I'm at and what I have.

     It's still just sinking in. This is real. Yes-- I did it! And life is going to be so much easier from here on out. I'm looking forward to Graduation this week. I look forward to being pinned and seeing my classmates for the last time all in one room. We came a long way together and boy aren't we gonna make some wonderful Nurses!?! I can't wait to take my NCLEX-RN exam. I can't wait to join that workforce doing something that I really want to do. Most of all, I can't wait to take my kids places they haven't been before, do new things, gain new hobbies, and put a little more in that collection plate. Yep-- life and God are good.

The Ninja

     Now that I've gotten the first week out of the way, I'm thinking about my fears. With this being a Pediatric floor, the one thing that I was afraid to deal with was being around a terminal child. In my world, death belongs to the elderly AND infirm; not those who've barely gotten the chance to live. I was unsure of how I'd handle the dying child because I have a tough time with death. We're not on good terms.

      My first day, there was a child who had been recently diagnosed with ALL but he looked relatively healthy so I wasn't that bothered. Sad but not really bothered. But my third day, I came face to face with a young boy with Neuroblastoma on his adrenal gland that had metastasized to his liver, brain, and bones. I'll call him P.S. The sight of him broke my heart. He was bald, he was pale as a sheet, and he was three. His parents only had him and his older brother. I remember thinking that this was so unfair.

      He was admitted for chemotherapy that Monday because he had to begin a regimen of prehydration and labwork first. It was explained that chemotherapy chemicals are highly nephrotoxic and the body needs to be hydrated to ensure that cytotoxins will be flushed from the body. Because he was a chemo patient, I mostly got to observe which was okay with me because I was so full of questions. How long has he had it? How did the parents find it? More importantly, what was his prognosis? Well...he was Stage IV and his chemo was in still in the research phase. I'm in tears as I write this because his outlook is pretty poor but his disposition was amazing. He laughed with me and showed me his Spider-Man pajamas. Spider Man was his hero and all the Nurses knew it. He wanted to make sure that I knew it, too. Early on, I'd noticed that he was highly intelligent after having been through so much and charming. He could charm the scales off a snake. Of course, I wanted to cry but as always, I'm careful to save the tears for my car where nobody's looking. Brenda, my Preceptor, explained the how's and whys of his labs and orders. For some reason, I thought that all this would be confusing but not so. I hung on to every word.

When I came in on Wednesday, I was under a Nurse named Candace and my little chemo patient was hers that day. The first thing that I saw when I reached the unit was a little Ninja come up to me and give me some karate chops. Sure enough, it was P.S. His parents were clever; he wouldn't wear a mask but he would wear a costume so that day, he let Spider-Man rest. A Ninja it was. It was kind of funny because, although, he'd had chemo the day before, he was in wonderful spirits. He was on his way to the playroom at 6:45 in the morning and felt like playing. Mom, realizing that his every moment is precious, gave in. She was so tired but like me, she was not one to spoil a kid's fun. Of course, I acted like I didn't know who he was and there was a Ninja attacking me. He laughed and I swear it sounded like Heaven. His mom looked tired but grateful that her boy was in good hands.

     It was in that moment, I forgot the bad and only remembered the good. There's nothing to really be afraid of because this is life. It happens. To everybody. The only thing that we need to do is remember: To everything, there is a silver lining if only we look for it. Oh...and one more thing: try to make the best out of every moment. They are not guaranteed.

That First Day

     Sunday morning, bright and early, I started my Preceptorship. It's a 120 hours of externing under a Nurse so that you get exposed to working with many patients. Previously, I'd asked to work in Medical-Surgical and Pediatrics was my third choice. I didn't foresee that our instructor would have such a hard time finding spots for us and I figured that I'd be in the local hospital on the floor where I'd done my clinicals. It's funny how you make plans and God laughs at them. 

     My mind was made up at the beginning of all this that I didn't want to work with kids because I've mostly worked in Pediatrics as a Medical Assistant and, although I liked it, I wanted a change. I love kiddos but the day in day out cold, strep throat, 'I don't want a shot!" tends to grow old. I wanted surgeries. I wanted complex diseases. I wanted something that was 18 and over. That had been my plan all along and I was sticking to it. So, when our Precept instructor told me that all she had available for the shift I wanted was Peds, I was crestfallen but, begrudgingly, I decided to take it.

 

                                                              

      Well...imagine my surprise when I fell in love the first day on the floor. I saw those babies and in one full swoop, I was head over heels. I looked up because God knew all along what He was doing. That first day, I hit the floor running. Giving meds, assessing patients, looking over labs, you name it, I did it. I had a tonsillectomy, sickle cell anemia, feverish newborn, and the one who stole my heart, the leukemia kid. The tonsillectomy was a discharge so he was out the door in the first few hours and the sickle cell kid had a doting mom. She took care of everything because he was her precious cargo. They were easy. The newborn had a Mom who was there but she wasn't there. For some reason, she didn't really have a good bond with her baby. I don't know if it was because of her economic and psychosocial situation but she seemed to look at him like he was an accessory. She picked him up, tucked him in the crook of her arm, and nodded off to sleep. No smiles, no coos, no eye contact. I just shook my head and prayed that I wouldn't see him on the news in about fifteen years. Real parents know that you have to nurture those babies with love and affection so that they won't turn out like weeds.

                         

                                                 

     Now, the leukemia kid was another story. His "parents" are his much older Aunt and Uncle because Mom and Dad couldn't or wouldn't get their life straight. Somehow, people tend to forget that you have to have it together before you make a baby, but that's a story for another day. Anyway, the one thing that struck me about this kid was his smile. He looked like sunshine. He's only two and he was only recently diagnosed but he acted like there wasn't a thing wrong with him. He grinned and laughed and played. One of the Nurses brought him a toy and the first thing he said was, "Jesus'. Oh my heart. They said that he prayed over his special toys. When other family members came to visit him, they treated him like gold. I was confident that they made up for what Mama and Daddy weren't giving him. I remember one of his visitors saying what a shame it was that his Mom wouldn't take the time to come in from out of state just to see him. That made me burn inside but it came to me that He always puts us where should be at the right time and with the right people. Everything happens for a reason. I conveyed that and the family agreed 100%.

     The rest of my day passed by so quickly. When I left the floor, I was thankful for three things. One, my babies are healthy and they have me to love them like there is no tomorrow. I would turn over heaven and earth for my kids. Two, I'm not as desensitized as I thought I would be by the end of this Nursing School journey. I had some teary moments that day but I was careful not to let my patients or their families see it. Yes...I have a heart and it burns for Nursing. And last, I'm glad I was wrong. I'm stronger than I thought and I have only Him to thank for that. I didn't think that I would make it to Preceptorship. I planned on giving it my best shot but in the back of my mind, I had a nagging feeling that I wouldn't get this far. I'm a mama of a dozen; life is hard just day to day. But...God knows best. Before I left, these Nurses had on these T-Shirts that said, "Pray for Mitchell" on the front in bold orange letters. A family needed all they prayers they could get for their loved one. That wasn't what struck me. It was the verse on the back that made me smile. He was giving me a little reminder:

Jeremiah 29:11 - 'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'

    

The Test

     Yesterday, was a make it or break it kind of day for me. Our class had our last test before preceptorship and final exam. The way our program works is that you have to have a 75 test average just to pass that class and for anyone who is a Nurse or Nursing student, you know that this is feat in and of itself. Studying for Nursing isn't just memorization-- it's critical thinking. Our tests consists of two right answers, the best answer, and a wrong answer. There's hours and hours and hours of studying, stressing, etc. We put our blood, sweat, and tears into this. So much so that it takes over your life. Families, spouses, friends, love ones take a seat on the back burner.

     For me, being a Nurse means that I'll have enough money that I won't always have to say no because I don't have something. It's means that I'll be able to shop in the store and not in the circular magazine. I won't lose sleep worrying about how I'm going to cover that bill. I won't have to run out of gas or run on fumes and a prayer. More than that, I get to take care of people which is my passion. I don't want to do anything else. Nursing is my love.

     While I'm considered to be one of the best in my class (as I've been told by my instructors), I struggle with testing. I don't do well with select all that apply and Pharmacology. It's just not my bag. So, with this being said, my testing average was a 75.33% and I've been stressing out something terrible. The days before this test were filled with hours of studying. Tears. Bunches of tears. Prayers. Lots of prayers. Sleepless nights. A ton of those. I had a marathon study session the day before that lasted from 7:30 a.m to 5p.m. and 8:30 p.m. to 3:20a.m. I took a two hour nap and back at it 7:30-8:50 a.m the day of. I was EXHAUSTED. The test was to start at 9 am and I did the only thing that I knew how. Pray. Hard.

     I told God that I knew He wanted nothing but success for me. I told him that ultimately, His will would be done but that I placed my future and that of my family in His hands. I know that He wouldn't let me come this far and just let me fall. He knows me better than anyone else, myself included. I need Him like I need water, food, and air. I prayed this in my shower. I prayed in the car on the way to school. I prayed in the parking deck. I even did a quick prayer in front of the computer. Tensions were high and my heart was racing. I just knew a panic attack was coming on. Then, it was time to get started.

     The test was timed for 75 minutes. Fifty questions. Once you answer, you can't go back because it only lets you answer one at a time. As I answered each question, I just knew that they were wrong. About halfway through, I'd decided that I would go home, tell my kids that I'd failed, and we'd be struggling and sacrificing another six months (if I even went back at all). I had this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach and just knew that I was going to vomit. Right there in front of half my class. After 28 minutes (for some reason, I test really quickly), I hit the submit button. Before I checked my score, I said, "God, please let this say 74 because that's what I need to pass on." As a matter of fact, I wasn't even going to look at my score. I was just going to leave. Then...

     I looked at my score. I expected to see a 50 or 60 but it was WAY higher than what I needed. The class was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop so people were surprised to hear me exclaim, "Thank you, Jesus!" In that moment, I had to give Him the praises because I just knew that there was dreadful knews waiting on me and He proved me wrong. I walked out of that class with tears in my eyes and the biggest smile ever. Right now, I'm still thanking Him.

     Now, I know that I have a final exam to go but in this moment, I'm just so grateful. God is so good. Even when my faith was waning, He still held me up. I'm just so thankful. Glory and praises, Father.