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.


    

On the Other Hand

     If there's one thing that I don't exactly like about myself, it's the complaining. I'm not sure why I do it but I think it has something to do with the fact that I wasn't allowed to express my feelings growing up. I learned to tack on a sweet little smile and act as if everything was okay even though I was torn up on the inside .
    
     Now that I'm an adult, whenever I'm displeased, I complain. Big time. And...I don't like it. At all. The spirit of negativity is hard to carry around all day. It eats me up on the inside and my cheerful optimism is replaced with a red-eyed beast that's always ready to let someone have it.

    So...I've decided to start looking at things the other way around. Follow me.

• Twelve kids are a bit much... On the other hand, God gave me a dozen blessings who fill my days with love and adventure.

• Teenagers. Need I say more... On the other hand, one of these days, they're going to grow up and start their own families and I'm going to be there to spoil their kids 10x more rotten. Ha!

• One of my oldest and dearest friends is slowly but surely slipping away... On the other hand, He sees my sadness and comforts me. I'm able to enjoy this little bit of time that we have left. Memories will sustain me.

• Nursing school is tortuous and long... On the other hand, it's been my dream over half my life and Nursing is all that I've ever wanted to do.

• Life is short and cruel. Those patients really suffer... On the other hand, this whole experience has taught me to stop and watch the clouds and the sun, the moon and the stars. (Yes, I really do that.) This is the only time in existence that I'll have the pleasure of enjoying it.

• Financially, I'm not where I want to be...not yet... On the other hand, when I get there, I'll appreciate it a whole lot more. Better believe it. Ben Franklin will beg for air before he leaves my pocketbook.

• Bills, bills, bills... On the other hand, I'm lucky and blessed to have an address for a bill to come to. It could be worse. I could be sleepy under a bridge or in a car.

• My car doesn't understand the meaning of fuel economy... On the other hand, I don't have to walk or be stuck in the elements.

• Spiritually, I feel like I'm not as convicted as I should be...On the other hand, He has his arms outstretched and waiting. He keeps me from falling.

    My point is that I have to stop seeing all the bad and start finding the good in everything. I posted this on Facebook and boy does it remind me of me.

 

Wish me the best of luck and have a great day everybody!

Gratitude

     I'm going to start this post today by saying that Our Father is ever so amazing. He's gracious and kind and merciful and loving. He's everything that's good in life. The one thing that I've also noticed is that He has a way of humbling us when we're too prideful or arrogant. Now, I admit-- I'm no saint. I have my days where I'm down in the dumps and I feel like nobody cares. I have days where I'm at the top and I feel like I'm the cream of the crop and nobody does it better than me. Then, I have those days where I'm so inpatient with everything and everybody. I feel like the world should be moving at the speed of my light. I know it's silly but it's just me being honest.

     I'm in my senior semester of Nursing school and, as usual, my days are long and hectic. I started complaining about having to go to Clinicals first thing this morning before I even got in the shower. How dare patients have the nerve to be sick and me have to get out my warm bed to go in and put in time for free! I'm sick of this, I'm tired of that, and on and on my mind raged this morning. So...I prayed about it in the shower and left it at that. Once I pulled out of the driveway this morning, everything started to calm down. By the time I reached the hospital, I was in good spirits.

     Well, as usual, I was the first student to the floor. My instructor asked me if I had this certain patient before and I said, "No." Then, she gave me a brief summary of what was wrong with her and I thought, "crap!!!" Although, I'll never let a patient see me aggravated or irritated, in the back of my mind, I thought that I was being punished. For having bad thoughts. For being mean to those that I love. For being inpatient. For being arrogant.

     Anyway, I get in the room this morning and I see this patient. She's my age and had a stroke sometime during the summer. She has children whom love her. She has a mother who takes the time to call and make sure that she hears her voice. She couldn't talk, she couldn't move, and her body was twisted. She was missing part of her skull. She was lying there storming (something brain injured patients do when they're overstimulated). I was told that her prognosis is very poor. Suddenly, the thought came to me that when she woke up the morning that this happened, she probably never thought that this would be her life. I wondered if she'd had the time to thank God for His Son, his grace, his Mercy, her life, their life. Had she taken the time to stop and smell the roses. Look up at the clouds and watch them float on by? Had she taken the time to tell her loved ones how much they meant to her and how grateful she was that God put them in her life? Did she handle all of her spiritual business before this condition took over her life?

   I took care of her like she was one of my own family members. I've started to notice that I do that with all of my patients. It gives me joy because it gives me purpose. Anyway, I took more time with her than I normally do for any other patient because I felt compelled in my spirit. I wanted her trach care to be just right. I didn't want her to be the least bit uncomfortable (although there was only so much I could do in that area). I was praying that she was cognizant enough to know that she was in good hands because I was there. And I cared.
    
    One thing that I noticed is how I felt very humble and quite foolish and ashamed. Who am I to complain about anything when I'm walking, talking, my kids are healthy, and I have family who love me? Who cares that I had to wake up early and leave out before the sun came up? Who cares that things don't always go my way? Seriously, there is more to life. So, I learned a lesson or two today. And what is life if you don't see or get the lesson that God wants to teach you? In my mind, I told God, "Thank You." I get it.

     First, stop complaining so much. I have a bad habit of this and I don't like it at all. This Nursing thing is the dream that I've had for myself that God made come true even when I doubted. He gave me the gift of the big heart that has so much compassion. Second lesson-- everyday really does count. Every single day. Lazy days, crazy days-- all of them. You have to make them count and if possible, leave a good impression. You just never know...

    I'm a huge fan of the group Coldplay. In their song, Square One, they sing this lyric: 'From the line on the first page until the end of the last day'. It's metaphorical for one's life. For some reason, that song just kept coming back to me. All afternoon. Do I want my last page to be filled with regrets, anger, and irrelevance or do I want a 'well done my good and faithful servant' when my life's book has been read?

Loving It!

     I've made it to my fourth semester! Am I scared? You betcha! Am I tired? Better believe it. The studying is tedious and there's so much that I had forgotten over the summer break. Lectures are more like class discussions because there's a lot of self teaching. The tests are no longer just knowledge based; you have to apply what you know to that patient. The hours are long, the material is tough, and everything else in your life goes on the back burner.



     The one thing that I've noticed is that I really love clinicals this semester. I believe that it's because I feel more like a nurse and less like a CNA. Now, when I found out who my clinical instructor was, I was excited. Ms. Grace, as we call her, is brilliant. Funny, too. More importantly, she makes you really look at your patient, their disease process, and the effect it has on their life. She cares so much for the patients when she tends to them and puts her heart into it. I'm determined that I will be that kind of nurse. No patient is going to be just a body to me. Ever.


     The other thing that surprises me is that I'm tougher than I thought I was. I always said that I don't want to see blood and guts and slime, etc. I was determined that I never wanted to see a bedsore or suction snot from a person's trach. In my mind, it just wasn't happening. But...this semester, I'm on a respiratory floor and I can suction and clean a trach with the best of them! My stomach doesn't even try to flip anymore. I'm way better at assessing patients and recognizing when something just doesn't feel right. My heart is on a hospital floor and if I had a choice in the matter, I would stay there all day. I just have this need to try to solve problems and care for people.


      I was thinking today that God has given me the most amazing gift. Besides my children that is. I didn't grow up in the best circumstances and was left feeling unloved and unwanted almost my whole life. I still have days. But, I think that all this only made me a more compassionate person overall. I know that I care way more than I should and I'm unbelievably sensitive but it's ok. I finally accept those flaws and truth be told, I think they're blessings.

    

A Friend Indeed

     I had a pretty tough weekend. I've made some mistakes these past couple of weeks that have cost me emotionally. I don't know why I do the things that I do sometimes; I just do. I'm thankful for His Grace and Mercy because without it, life wouldn't be worth living. I'm a sinner just like everybody else and I know that I'm forgiven but I have the hardest time forgiving myself. I'm harder on me than anybody and I know that my Father knows this. I believe this is why He chose to bring special folks in my life that can help me see the rainbow at the end of the storm.

     One such person is my friend, Phillip. I met him about eight years ago-- he was my co-worker. Somehow, I knew that he was going to be more than that and that he'd always be a constant in my life. The one thing that I like about him is that he has an awesome spirit. Even when things in his own life are stormy, he finds a way to be there for his friends and when you think that nobody cares, he's there rooting for you the whole time. He's given me nothing but encouragement, sound advice, a listening ear, and hope when I'm struggling when I'm struggling inside.

Today, I found this poem. Out of all of my friends, this reminds me of him:

My Friend
Long ago, I found my friend,
Who knew everything I felt.
He knows my every weakness,
And the problems and situations I’ve been dealt.
He understood my wonders,
And listened to my dreams.
He listened to how I felt about life and love,
And knew what it all means.
Not once did he interrupt me,
Or tell me that I was wrong.
He understands what I am going through,
And promised he’ll stay long
When I reached out to this friend,
He showed me that he’ll always care.
He’d pull me close and let me know
That he’ll always be there.
He’ll hold my hand
To pull and pull me near.
I realized that this perfect friend I have
Is gracious, wonderful, and very dear.

                                                -Anonymous

    

     We both have two jobs, we're in school, and we have others that depend on us. We can't see each other as much as I'd like but at the end of the day, he's the one friend I thank God for. I don't know if he knows how much I love him for I don't think that I tell him enough. It doesn't really matter because I know he'll always be there.

A Promise to Keep

      I was riding in my car last week and from somewhere in time, I seemed to recall a conversation that I had with my late grandfather, Clarence. I was 23 years old and had six children. At the time we were making those babies, it didn't dawn on me that they grow up and that one day I'd be doing this as a single parent. Anyway, for the first time ever, he was upset with me. I'd call to say that I'd given birth to another baby boy. I remember him fussing because I'd had ANOTHER baby. He said to me,"If you keep this up, you're going to be living on welfare and you're life is going to go nowhere!" I was so hurt. I told him that he was wrong and that I planned to finish school and become a Nurse. He scoffed at me and said, "Yeah right! You can't go to school with all those kids! How will you be able to work?" So I explained that I worked full time and that eventually, I was going to make a way. Of course, he didn't believe me and my heart just ached.

     My grandfather was one of the most important people in my life. I have only good memories of him and growing up, I thought that he was the only one to see any goodness in me. I remember him smoking his pipe and laughing. I remember him telling me how special I was and I was such a good girl. He always had a compliment and fresh $20 in hand as soon as I came around. I loved that man so much. The best thing about him was his loyalty to others and that work ethic. Oh...he was such a hard worker. He cleaned pig pens and slopped hogs from the time he was 8 years old because he knew he had to contribute. After he grew up, he got up at 4 in the morning to get his day started. He used to say that a man had no business sleeping past sunrise. That was laziness! At 5 am, he made his way out the door because there was a neighbor who lived close by. My Grandpa Shorty (as we called him) would go to his house, make his breakfast and lunch, then proceed to work. See this neighbor had unfortunately had his legs blown off in some distant war and Shorty was going to make sure that he was taken care of. Unfailingly, every day. (This must be where I get my sense of duty from.)

     When I was a little older, we moved away to Charlotte but I could always pick up the phone and he was there. Always, but only after 7pm because he worked hard all day up until a week before he died at the age of 76. I used to say that I'd never marry until I found someone just like him. He set the standard of what I wanted in a husband. Through the years, I went to see him a few times after I was on my own. Each time I'd silently pray that we'd grow old together although I knew that was impossible. One time, he expressed to me that he was getting old; he wouldn't always be here. I told him he was crazy. He was going to be around to watch me grow old and then we'd die together. How silly was that?

     So...when this man who meant more to me than any man in the world doubted me, the pain was like a punch in my gut. I was so angry with him but I didn't let him know that. I have way more respect than to argue with my elders. Before I hung up that phone, my Grandpa said, "The day you graduate from Nursing School, I'll be there. I haven't left Greenville in over 56 years but I'll be there to see you walk across that stage." So I said,"Deal?" and he said,"Deal!" At the time, I was young and time had no meaning to me other than what was on the face of a clock. I took my sweet time and had more babies and went to school and did my Medical Assisting thing and...you get the picture. Time passed me by and I hadn't kept my promise. Then, sadly, in 2006 he passed away the first day of July. Coupled with another major event, that was the worst year of my life. Depression took me to some dizzying lows.

     A couple of years later, it hit me that it was time for me to take that leap. So...now I'm here in this moment of my life, keeping my promise. It dawned on me a few days ago that it was almost time for me to apply for graduation. I was giddy inside because I begin my senior semester in August. I won't get to graduate until May (our college only holds one ceremony a year) but then I felt a little sad because I'd waited so long. The sadness didn't last long because I have the feeling that somewhere in heaven, there's a man walking around with a corn cob pipe and cherry tobacco smiling because I kept my promise.

Overflowing with Thanks

      These past few months have gone by so quickly that it almost seems surreal. I've had moments that have tested my faith, drove me to tears, and brought me closer to Him. One thing keeps coming to mind.

This is a picture of my eldest son, Jason (or as I affectionately call him, Beezie).

     He's the son that I waited for my whole life. No, he's not an angel. Yes-- he's gets himself into some unimaginable situations. But at the end of the day. He's my boy. This past February, he was in an awful car accident. This pic that you see is how I found him when I got to the hospital.

     I must say that getting a phone call at 6 in the morning with someone screaming on the other line that your baby has been hurt and come quick is the most nightmarish thing that's happened to me in a long time. I hit the floor running and broke a few laws getting to the hospital. I remember that on the way, I prayed and prayed. I even offered God my life to take if he'd only let my baby be okay. Then, I called the hospital and a reassuring voice came to the phone and told me to calm down; he was talking and semi-conscious and suddenly, I knew that all was going to right with the world. It's like God said "Stop worrying; I've got this." (I have to work on my worrying-- I'm a pro at that!) Long story short, when I got there and the HP told me what had happened, I almost fell to my knees. He'd been thrown out of a window in the middle of I-77 and his friends left him to die. One even took the shoes off his feet. A stranger saw the accident, stopped to call 911, blocked traffic with her car, and prayed over my baby. If I weren't already a believer, that would've sealed the deal. He spent 5 weeks in the hospital. His doc told us that his skeleton was dissected and he had to put together with screws. Thankfully, he wasn't paralyzed or worse.
 
      This son of mine is a soldier. He was supposed to spend months in a wheelchair but he began walking a few weeks ago. Aside from a little PTSD, I believe he's going to be just fine. I think the attention of his ldy love, Tranika and God are responsible for that! (Funny how God puts the right people in your life at the right time.)
Here's a pic of him now.

    Smiling brighter than ever. He did something recently that I'd never thought that I'd see. He went to church, went down to the altar, and turned his life over to Christ. I can honestly say that my heart is full to overflowing. There's no guesses on my part of whose responsible for that!

A Dream Come True

     I've been busy these past few months. I've barely had time to breathe and take it all in. I've finished my second semester of Nursing School and made the Dean's List! It was HARD work but I did it. Now, I'm entering the OB/GYN rotation. I'm more than excited, I'm ecstatic.

     Years ago, when I had my first daughter, I was a teen mom. Unmarried, unsure of what to do with a baby, and although very mature, I just had no idea where my life was going to go. I remember the recovery room nurse making such an impression on me. She talked to me, in those late night hours, about how much she loved her career, how she adored those precious babies, how I was the youngest person on the floor that night, and how I had a tremendous responsibility on my hands. It really gave me something to think about.

    

     I remember being a child who always wondered what God thought of me and my actions. I have to say, I wasn't proud of myself for being a teenage unwed mom but I always knew God has my back. He loves me, he'd make miracles happen, and I am his daughter. I've always known that I needed to pray in Jesus name anytime I needed Him and he was there.

    

     On that particular night, I remember telling God that I wanted to be just like that Nurse. I wanted to care for people and make a difference in THEIR life. Through the years, I went to college on and off and became a Medical Assistant. It was okay but...I knew that this wasn't enough. I was destined to do more. I didn't think that I would get this chance but I knew that I had to hold fast. Then, all the sudden, here I am, getting the chance to live out my dream and I have nobody to thank for this but the Father himself.

     It's hard. I'm a Mommy of a dozen who aren't always little angels. We've had to sacrifice financially on some of the things that can wait. There are no extra perks right now but it's all okay. I'm taking this all in stride. On the other hand, I can't believe this! After 20 years, He's making my dream come true! I registered for my third of four semesters this morning. When I did, I got a little teary eyed. I was reminded that I asked for this and He has BLESSED me. All I needed was Faith and Patience and He came through with Grace and Mercy.

Glorifying Him

     These past few weeks haven't been my personal best but life goes on. One of my daughters has decided to test my waters. The baby boy has some sort of cardiac arrythmia that requires the pediatric cardiologist. The straw that broke the camel's back was that my car died and I was faced with quitting school, no transportation to work, and endless worrying. I had been praying for months that the Good Lord would bless me with another minivan. I prayed many, many days for months. I just didn't know that He would take one thing and make it another.

     Yesterday, my engine finally gave out. I was terrified because I've always had a car since I was 20 and I didn't think that it was feasible to take 10 kids on a bus every time we needed to get up and go. I live out near a small town and buses don't run through there that often. Plus, it's almost a mile to the bus stop and that's a lot of walking! I was thinking of church trips, their schools, my school, my job...my mind was everywhere! I don't have the finances right now to live the way that I want to and struggling is my middle name. I'm thrifty but it's tiresome and I just couldn't see an end to a bad situation.

     So...I did the only thing that I knew to make the impossible possible. I put it in His hands.
I prayed long and hard. I prayed softly and sweetly. In the end, tearfully, I threw my hands up, got on, my sore knees, and just gave it to Him. In the end, He did what He always does; took my pain and worry and turned it around for the best. I just had to take this moment to Glorify the One who loves me the most.

Humility

Today was not a great day for me. I feel like I fell flat on my face! We had a test in one of my Nursing classes and I was so siked. The instructor even wrote on the board that "Youka is brilliant". Let's just say that I'm not as brilliant as I thought. Talk about a lesson in flying high and falling low! All I can do is pray! Enough said.

Putting It All Into Perspective

     Yesterday, I had my first real day of clinicals. Although this is my second semester, yesterday, I felt like a REAL Nursing student. I began by getting my patients med list and listening to report. That was certainly informative. Reading the patient's history was educational as well as a lesson. The thing that really did it for me was changing out the IV bags and giving IV push meds. Loved that. The only downer of the day was when my patient vomited and he had a small bowel obstruction. The smell left something to be desired.

     My lesson of the day was that we have to appreciate the life that God gives us. You can't take any of this for granted because you never know when it's your time. The patient that I had yesterday has Stage IV Colon cancer. He's fighting it tooth and nail and he's so brave. He had a bottle of prayer oil on his stand and it was obvious to me that it's his faith that has sustained him so long.

     Death used to make me so sad. It hurts to lose something or someone whose close to your heart. I know because I've lost three babies, grandparents, an uncle, childhood best friend, and my brother-in-law. The latter was the one that sticks to me like glue. More about him later. Anyway, I was reading the Good Book one day and I found that we can't go back home to He who loves us most in the flesh. We have to be in the spirit. I just hope when it's my time, I've accomplished all that I set out to do.

Swimming Ever Since

     When I was younger, my mama was interracially married. She's Black and her first husband was White. My stepfather was a wonderful man. Sadly, they didn't stay married long. I think it was a combination of living in the South, both coming from prejudiced families, and not having enough income. They struggled but he was a good provider. Anyway, that experience taught me a few things.

     For one thing, I'm color-blind. I don't see race when it comes to dealing with people. I love everybody just about the same. Second, I gained an understanding about ignorance real early on. Prejudice doesn't have a color. Last, that stepfather of mine taught me so much in such a little bit of time. He taught me to read and write, swim, ride a bike, and he even bought me my first pair of skates. He never made me feel like I wasn't his own.

     Unfortunately, when they divorced, my mom wasn't in the best place mentally and emotionally. She was at times very abusive and she just couldn't love us as a mother should. Eventually, she lost custody of me and my brothers. We were separated for years. Over 20 years to be frank. Not a day went by that I didn't miss them. I still do. Everyday. Each and everyday. I was raised by my Mom for a time and they by their dad. He and my Mom have never spoken since and it used to bother me something awful. She never had a kind word to say about him and I think her perception was somewhat distorted.

     I prayed about this and I asked God to help me find my brothers. Immediately, I found the baby boy, Matthew, but it wasn't until later that I found my middle brother, Andrew. I've made contact with Matt, but unfortunately, the middle boy wants nothing to do with me. I don't understand it but I've accepted this and moved on. I must say that it hurts terribly. His family is beautiful and God has blessed him with a wonderful wife. He struck gold. Matt has an interesting life and he marches to the beat of his own drum. We're still getting to know each other (thru FB) and it's not what I hoped for but right now, this arrangement seems to work. As for Andrew, I know God has a plan for that. I think of that brother as The Promised Land. One day, we'll get there.

     What brought this to mind was something my Mom said. She said years ago, a really good man taught me how to swim. (I was surprised because she never says anything nice about him.) I was four and she remembers that he spent the whole summer teaching me in his spare time. At the end of the summer, he decided to throw me in the pool. Before he did, she said that he told me I would either sink or swim. She said much to her delight, I've been swimming ever since! My life has been a HARD one and truth be told, there are so many times that I justed wanted to throw up my hands and quit. Instead, I soldier on. I've made stupid mistakes and put myself in terrible predicaments. Every time, He forgives me and lets me know that I'm his daughter and that I matter. In a world of billions, I matter. My mama didn't give credit where it was due. Although, I was blessed with a great stepfather, I say that it's only by God's Good Grace and the love of his Son, Jesus Christ, that I've been able to make it this far. Nothing and no one else.
    

NURSING SCHOOL-- 2ND SEMESTER!!!

     My second semester of Nursing School started Monday. For some reason, I am just tickled pink this time around. I got a B last semester for my Fundamentals class and I was so upset because I had my heart set on an A. I guess that comes from being an overachiever. (I pray to God alot about that character flaw of mine.) Anyway, there wasn't a day that went by that I didn't want to quit. I felt so ashamed of this because I prayed for years for God to help me become a Nurse.

    After much trepidation, I drove to school. I wanted to spend more time with my kiddos but I knew it was time. When we started lecture, I became euphoric. I was able to grasp concepts easier and my instructors are wonderful. All those disease processes and signs and symptoms. I loved it! I LOVE IT. I couldn't wait to get home and share my new found knowledge with my kids.

    The best part of my day, however, was when I got home. My babies were there waiting for me. The best part is they are healthy and beautiful. I teared up a little because the good Lord sure did bless me beyond belief. Nothing else compares. I used to want to just put them off on their Grandmas and have time to myself. I couldn't wait to be rid of a few kids for the weekend. How awful is that? Now... I love being their Mama. God entrusted them to me. Me of all people. All I want to do is be with them all the time. Unless I'm at school of course

CoCo Puffs

     Out all of my children, there is one who stands out amongst the crowd. She has the most beautiful heart and she stands by her convictions. She has never really been a source of trouble and when she was younger, I nicknamed her my Golden Heart.

     If I need help around the house, she's there.
    
     If I need help with the babies, she's there.
    

                                                                Briana at 14 with baby, Matt.     
    

     Someone gets a boo-boo, CoCo is on it!

   
     When I do Bible study with the kids, she the most intent on understanding EVERYTHING.

     When she informed me that she plans on going to Fayetteville State University, I beamed inside because she's doing exactly what I thought she would. She's planned on college since she was 6 years old.
 
      This angel of mine is Briana Nicole and she was born 16 years ago. I was only 19 at the time and was enamored of this child who unexpectedly was born at home! She's number 3 in my family of 12. She was such a chubby baby that we called her CoCo Puffs and later just CoCo.

                                                                 Briana at just 2 months old!

     
     Through the years, she has become quite the little lady. She is modest and honest and everything that a 16 year old should be. She didn't go boy crazy, she's focused on her future, and she knows what she wants. She only sees the good in everybody and life is roses when she's around. Only once has a teacher ever called me and that was in high school. This girl has been known to give the coat off her back in the dead of winter! She would comfort a crying baby in the grocery store in a heart beat. Loves her family like no other. This is my CoCo Puff.

     When she turns 18 and heads to college, I'm going to miss that boisterous laugh and generous demeanor. I think that's one reason why I wish God would slow time down just a little. I just want a little more time for hugs and laughs and everything CoCo.

                                                          Briana and Matt last yr.