No agenda.

I stayed home sick from work today.  I woke up feeling dizzy, and nauseous, and all shades of not-so-good.  The day was spent in my pajamas, lounging around the house.  I worked on my scrapbook.  I read.  I talked on the phone with Susan.  I took a nap. I took multiple naps, actually. 

It was really a pretty amazing day (if you don’t count that parts of it during which I was worried I was either going to throw-up or pass-out); I don’t remember the last time I had a day to just relax.  It was really nice to not have an agenda.  It was pure bliss to be able to sit around in my pajamas all day.  I don’t even do that on Saturday mornings…

This Friday, I am leaving for vacation.  I’m going to Maine for 9 days, and I am super, ooberly, beyond excited about it.  I have no idea where I am staying, or what I am doing; I am traveling with my mother and my aunt Jane, and they have planned the entire trip. Surprisingly, I am completely okay with this.  Actually, I think it will be rather lovely to not be responsible for anything for nearly a week and a half, and to take care of only myself.  I will have no agenda.  I will get to relax.

And, possibly, I might get to see a moose.

A promise I can believe.

Last night, I went to the Maundy Thursday service at church. After a time of reflection, families could walk down to the front of the sanctuary and be served communion together by our pastors.  My “family” consisted of myself, Susan, Jen, and Rachel.  And I was perfectly content with that.

I will readily admit that I struggle, often, to believe all of God’s promises to me.  Unconditional love is something that I’m still not entirely sold on, and God’s statement that he will never leave me seems, at times, too good to be true.  It’s hard to believe statements that I don’t necessarily have evidence of, and I know that I tend to forget about, or completely overlook, the little things that God is continually doing to prove to me that he means what he says. 

There’s a wonderful promise that God makes in the bible, of which I can see evidence of on a daily basis.  Psalm 68:6 says that God sets the lonely in families, and I know that this is something he has done for me in my life.  When I stop to think about the people who are important to me, how we met, and the ways in which our relationships have developed… it’s painfully obvious to me that God has blessed me with these people and has allowed them to become my family. 

If God has been faithful in keeping one promise – faithful in ways that are bigger and beyond what I had ever imagined – than maybe he will be faithful in keeping all the others.

Cardboard Testimonies

We watched this last weekend, in my ABF at church.  I thought it was neat.  And I thought I’d share it.

Worlds Colliding.

Susan has started leading a group on The Purpose Driven Life and the basics of Christianity. 

Susan invited my mother to come to the group.

My mother went.

And then my mother called me to tell me how much she’d enjoyed it, how much she’d learned, and that she’ll be going back.

 

How cool is that?

Just Tired

Why is it that God seems to hear from me the most frequently when I’m stressed?  The majority of my prayers to him are SOS prayers saying, “God, I could really use your help with this right now.”  If I were him, I’d get tired of it.  For someone who get’s bailed out of trouble so often, I sure am awfully unappreciative…

These last few weeks have been pretty ridiculous, and I’ve been shooting off SOS prayers left and right.  I don’t want to be in school any longer.  I’m tired of the never ending stress.  On average, I’ve got at least two tests, and twice as many quizzes, every week.  I’ve got four labs.  I’m in classes from nine in the morning until three in the afternoon.  I work.  I go to meetings at my church.  I don’t remember the last time I did anything social.  My friends have stopped inviting me to do anything social because they’re tired of hearing me say that I’ve got to study or do school work. 

I’m not having a pity-party… ok, maybe I am.  Sunday night, I was so stressed out that I found a stairwell on campus that no one normally uses, climbed to the top of it and started all-out sobbing.  And I couldn’t say why… I was just stressed and tired, and emotionally drained.  I’m just tired.

In saying all of this, I guess what I’m really trying to say is how very grateful I am to God.  There are so many little things he does for me on a daily basis, which carry me through the week.  He is the only reason I am not a complete and total basket-case right now.  He is my peace.  He is my rock.  Maybe that is what I’m really supposed to be learning this semester…

“I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint,” says the Lord.      Jeremiah 31:25

 

Oh, and clinical went well this morning.  When I have more time, I’ll write about it.  Or, I may just be lazy and post the journal entry I’m supposed to write about it… we’ll see.  Right now, I need to go and study for an Anatomy Exam I have in the morning.

It’s entirely too coincidental…

As much as Jack could drive me insane, the entire time he was living with us I always admired what a good father he was.  He would call his children every day.  One time, I asked Jack why he called his kids so often, and he told me that he hadn’t gone a single day without talking to his children in the 10-plus years he and his former wife had been divorced. 

 My dad speaks pretty infrequently to my sisters and myself.  When he and I talk, I am usually the one who’s initiated the telephone call or who’s asked to come to the house.  It’s been about two weeks since I last talked to him; sometimes I just get tired of being the one doing the calling.  Two weeks really isn’t that bad; Sarah and I were talking this morning, and she told me she’s not talked to dad since she left for college after the Christmas holiday.

My phone rang this afternoon, and I was very surprised to see my father’s name register on my caller ID.  “We should go on a date,” he told me.  Paul dates his daughters.  I love that Paul dates his daughters.  My dad used to date me… he sort of stopped when he got remarried.  I have no idea what prompted this phone call.  I nearly stopped breathing when my dad continued; ” I love you.  I miss you.”  Whoa.

In a way, it’s conversations like this which let me know that God is real.  It’s entirely too coincidental that Sarah and I were just talking, this morning, about how daddy never really calls us.  I’m not certain what God did to stir up my father’s heart and urge him to call me, but I am grateful.  Sometimes, in all honesty, my sisters and I feel like dad really just doesn’t care. 

Sometimes, it’s nice to be reminded that you’re wrong. 

The Sweetest Thing

I watched a little boy get lost a few days ago.  Well, no.  I actually watched him be found, I suppose.  I was in one of those restaurants that has an arcade in it, so kids (or adults) can play while waiting for their food to be delivered.  The little boy sort of wandered away from the arcade and into another section of the restaurant… and then had absolutely no idea where he was.  A waitress found him, looking very lost and frightened, I’m sure, and she brought the little boy back to his dad.  Holding onto the waitress’ hand as she led him toward the table, the little boy looked absolutely petrified, and it was the sweetest thing to watch him run to his dad and suction-cup himself around his dad’s waist.

The whole incident got me thinking about how frequently I get lost.  Spiritually lost, I mean.  I can be going along just fine, staying where I’m supposed to be and having a terrific time, and then, all of a sudden, I’m lost before I even know it.  I’ve got no idea where I am, how I got there, or how I’m supposed to get back to where I need to be.  When I finally do make it back to God and familiar territory, I am so grateful to be in my Father’s presence that I can’t even describe it.  Being lost is scary!

In the moment, when I’m standing there feeling stranded and all alone, I can never see how I got there.  Hindsight is always 20/20, though, and I can look back and say that I generally end up lost because I get distracted.   Something catches my eye; it’s just a teeny bit outside of the zone where I’m supposed to be, and it looks so harmless, and so I take a step towards it.  And then another step.  And another.  And, before I know it, I find myself in a predicament very similar to that little boy’s.

After he’d been found and sufficiently comforted by his dad, the little boy was asked, “Well why didn’t you just look for your sister?”  The girl was right around the corner, and could easily have brought the little boy back to the table.  It’s easy for me to imagine my Father asking me a similar question, after I get lost; He leaves me so many tools to help me find my way back to Him (church members, the Word, etc.), and I usually don’t pay attention to them until it’s too late and I’m already lost.  On some level, I suppose I always feel that I’m a big enough girl to take care of myself; I’m quite capable of finding my own way, thank you very much… which is a really, really bad way to think, and usually lands me in a mess.

I am so grateful that God always leads me back to Him, somehow.  He could yell at me for wandering off, but He always lets me suction-cup myself to His waist, and then He holds me… just like that little boy’s dad did in the restaurant.  I have the neatest Dad…

“How do you know?”

Susan:  “Hello?”

Me:  “Hi!  This is your adopted daughter, calling to inform you that… well… that I am going to be a nurse, and that I’m awfully excited about this.  So excited, in fact, that you might even say I’m giddy.”

Susan:  “That’s wonderful.  How do you know?”

Me:  “How do I know I’m going to be a nurse?  Or how do I know I’m giddy?”

Oh my goodness, I am so excited.  This semester, I’ve started my first clinical class.  We’re not allowed to go into the hospitals yet; there’ll be 6 more weeks of practicing our skills in the lab before we’ll be given the opportunity to work with real patients.  It’s only the second week of classes, and I already feel like I’ve learned so much.  It’s thrilling and somehow overwhelming at the same time.  I am going to be a nurse!

I am finding that, as my schooling has progressed, I’ve come to enjoy it more and more.  I’m loving the sciences and how challenging they are.  My nursing class is small (there’s only 14 of us in my clinical class), and the feeling of camaraderie is growing among us.  We’re all pulling our hair out together, stressing over tests and the massive amount of work that’s continually being piled on us, and it’s fabulous.  The faculty here is amazing; they’re caring and supportive and funny.  We are real students, not just numbers, and the teachers know us all by name.  I am so blessed to go to this fantastic college, and to be surrounded by such incredible people.  These past two weeks, I have felt so encouraged.  I am one of those girls who went to college not knowing what they wanted to do, and after changing my major 4 times it’s such a relief to have finally found one that fits me and what I want to accomplish in life. 

Millions of little blessings.

    I know that I’ve said this before, but… Oh my goodness, God is so stinking good!  Sometimes he just absolutely blows me away.  Why am I always so surprised when he gives me exactly what I need?

Last night, while I was packing to leave school, I missed a phone call from Susan.  In the voice mail she left me,  Susan told me that Jen and Rick had taken the kids and gone away for Thanksgiving… and, knowing that neither of us really want to be home, they’d left Sarah and I their house to use over the break.  I cried.

I am completely floored by the fact that they’d do something like this.  I’d never asked… never even imagined…  I can’t tell you how loved I feel right now, nor how incredibly grateful.  Oh my goodness.  When I got to the house this afternoon, I laughed out loud; Rick had left us all sorts of notes with instructions, among other things, that we are not to have any wild parties, are only allowed to have one boy over a piece, and can feel free to help ourselves to any alcohol in the house just so long as we leave some left in each of the bottles.  I really adore that man…

Sarah has decided not to use the house; she doesn’t really even know Jen and Rick, and I think she’s sort of thrown by their invitation to us.  I’m staying at their house, but only on an as-needed basis; it’s good to know that I’ve got somewhere I can escape to should the need arise, but my family is my family and, in spite of everything, I want to be with them.

I am loving having Sarah home.  She told me that she loved me last night, and that in itself is a huge blessing, because Sarah doesn’t normally say that without prompting.  Before I’d left school last night, she’d called for directions to a movie theater in the City, and had hung up the phone by chirping, “Ok, I’ll see you later tonight.  I love you.  Goodbye!”  I think I smiled for a good two hours after that.

Today was incredible; Sarah and I drove to our dad’s house and made apple pie.  The ride there and back was spent talking about boys and college, our parents, and just our lives, really.  We told secrets and laughed like we were best friends, and I couldn’t help but wonder when my baby sister had turned into the beautiful young woman sitting next to me.  How did I miss that?  Sarah and I have always had a good relationship, but I am really hopeful that it’ll grow stronger now that we’ve each had an opportunity to grow up a little bit.

I am winding down for the night, getting ready for bed and waiting for Susan to call and see if I’ve locked the doors…  I’m grateful, always but especially tonight, for the millions of little blessings God’s put in my life, and am pleased that he’s smacked me in the face with a few of them today.  To just say thanks doesn’t seem like enough…

Siblings

     On Friday night, I went to my dad’s house.  When I left, I cried nearly the entire way back to my dorm.  I cried happy, grateful tears; we were normal and functional for one evening, and it was lovely. 

     I am so appreciative of the twins, who make being there infinitely easier.  They are such wonderful distractions, and give me something to connect with my dad about.  In between helping to make dinner, I spent the evening building blanket forts with three year olds, answering to cries of “Yissa!  Come play with me!”  “Help, Yissa!  There’s a monster!” and “Look what I did!”  I played with Barbies and played dress-up, and cuddled with my siblings on the couch while we all watched a movie with our dad. 

     I lovebeing their sister.  They have made my life so much better, and I can’t imagine Christian and McKenna not being a part of it.  Alex too.  When I go to my dad and Lynn’s house, and they yell my name when I walk in the door because they’re so excited to see me… it’s just the neatest feeling.  To be loved and wanted just because, and for no other reason than the fact that I am their sister… to have everything I do be good enough…  it’s amazing.  I love that they want to spend time with me.  I love that they want to tell me things.  To listen to Alex drone on and on… and on… about whatever video game he happens to have just finished playing, or whatever stupid trading card game he’s collecting cards for, is fabulous because I know he’s telling me about the things that are most important to him at the moment.  I like that he wants to share those things with me.

     I don’t know… I’m just feeling awfully blessed this morning.  And really grateful that God didn’t have me be an only child…