Strong Dads

Our small group class just completed a book by Meg Meeker, Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters.  We didn’t anticipate the length of time it took for us to get through the book; however, it was very fitting that we concluded it on Father’s Day. We spent the last several weeks reading and discussing topics surrounding young girls and the crucial role dads have in forming and molding them into confident secure women.  The book emphasizes the importance our husbands have in our daughters’ lives and also the importance our dad had in ours. My Dad was no doubt a “Strong Father” and I pray I honor his investment into my life by striving to be a strong woman.  My Dad had a sense of humor that was incredibly witty.  He had such a way of making people laugh.  My Dad was a giver.  On more than one occasion he stepped in and paid a few of our client’s auto insurance policies; he’d help people out with a utility bill; he gave away a car to a family in need; he treated people to dinner all the time.  My Dad was a hard worker.  He didn’t have any hobbies, which made it challenging to be close to him.  His work was his life, and if we could be a part of that world, then we got the benefit of him being a part of ours; which had its pros and cons.  More pros.

Dad passed away on August 29, 2005.  I cannot believe it has been almost eight years.  After he passed, my Mom and I kept our family accounting business running until we sold it.  I remember sitting at his desk and hitting a road block.  Instinctively, I reached over, picked up the phone, and before I dialed realized that he wasn’t there to answer my questions anymore.  It was perhaps one of the scariest feelings.  I was married with two small children, but I had such security in knowing that I could still consult my Dad when needed.

There are days, like today, that I feel so sad my Dad has missed all life has brought us over the last eight years.  Caden was born a year after his passing on August 15, 2006.  How much I wish Dad would have been in the waiting room to celebrate Caden’s arrival, as he was for Brooklyn and Jaron.  I know he would have been ecstatic to see Brandon graduate from Oklahoma State University with his Bachelor of Science in Mechanical Engineering in May of 2007; and then to have been here to welcome Gavin into the world July 13, 2009.  Last year, I longed for his presence to watch me walk the stage as I graduated from the University of Oklahoma.  I was 31 years old, just finishing my degree, but I know he would have been so proud.  After all, he was the first person in his family to graduate from college at the age of 30 from Northeastern State University with a business degree.

Fittingly, today, we celebrated Father’s Day attending the Broadway musical, Disney’s The Lion King.  I woke up thinking about my Dad this morning, and felt such comfort when the show opened up with the powerful song, “The Circle of Life.”  There I was, sitting beside my husband, amongst our amazingly healthy and strong four children, and I thought….

“This is our time.  Our time to give to our children, to mold them into the people God intends for them to be; to plant a desire in their hearts to honor their Lord with all of their being.  Thank you, Lord.  Thank you, Lord that my parents gave that to me, and help me in all my inadequacies and shortcomings to give that to my children.”

It is a circle.  We get to take all the good we received and pass it on to another generation.  My Dad would have done a lot of things differently, I know because he expressed that openly, and I identify with that thought.  But what’s hopeful about a future is that we choose the part we get to put into it.  We can’t control the future, but we can control how we deal with it.  I learn from the mistakes of my Dad, and I aim to carry on and pass on the goodness that was within him.

Today was about dads and I feel like my children have the best.  My Dad would be so proud of his grandchildren’s father, and that is perhaps the greatest testament to his life.  He was a strong father, who raised a strong daughter, who chose a strong husband, who is raising strong children.  That is a circle, friends!  And it is beautiful!

Ecclesiastes  3:1 ”There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” (NIV)

A beautiful song by Mercy Me portrays the emotion I feel when I think of my Dad. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvhrPMJe8LE]

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

Trust in You

I am a planner. I like to know as far in advance as possible what I’m going to be doing. Before I even finish a task, I am mentally planning and plotting the next. I try to keep these thoughts tucked nicely inside my mind and pace sharing them; otherwise, I completely overwhelm my husband. He gets tired just listening, and I think my kids probably do too. Nursing school stretched me in the department of flexibility, no doubt. And it’s a good thing, because I can’t see how anyone can be a nurse without being flexible. We never know what the day will hold and we just have to roll with it and face it as it comes.

We all know though, that life is full of things we didn’t plan for; even if it is minor inconveniences. Like making a special trip to the local hardware store only to find that they are out of the one item you needed, or getting called in to work on a day you planned to spend with your family, or having the dryer go out when you have seven loads of laundry, two of which are already wet. These things happen all the time and it really puts a dent in the planning.

But what about when it’s not a minor inconvenience, what about the times that it’s completely devastating?

After finishing the first semester of nursing school, we had three of our classmates who were expecting. We teased that we all handle stress differently. A fun joke for our class that was exceptionally close. These babies were a celebration and sweet anticipation for us all. All three of the girls were due within about a month of each other. The first baby due was sweet Emily, Katie’s baby.

Katie went for a routine appointment a week before her due date, checking out just right. However, throughout the evening, Katie noticed that Emily was not moving around; mindful of those ever important kick counts. She went to the emergency department in the middle of the night. A short time later, in labor and delivery, Katie received news that she wasn’t prepared to hear. Her precious baby had died in utero from a cord accident. Katie had to proceed with delivering her baby and doing something no one plans to do; making funeral arrangements.

Most of our class attended Emily’s service. We grieved for our friend at the unfair reality of this imperfect world. But I personally, stood back through that season with complete admiration for this young woman. Katie pressed on in nursing school and she graduated from the University of Oklahoma with her bachelor’s degree in nursing. And she did it without delay. Katie walked that stage with all of us; the same group with whom she began that journey.

I thought of my friend recently while visiting with a patient’s mom. We had her fifth baby in our unit and although her baby was considered non-critical, it was absolutely devastating to this mother the events that had taken place surrounding her baby’s birth. She had planned to have this baby in the manner that she had her other four children; vaginal birth, no complications, straight to breast. However, she had to have a C-Section due to decreased fetal movement; the baby had a nuchal cord. The mother continued to explain to me, in floods of tears, that she wasn’t able to feed her baby. She was absolutely heartbroken that her baby received the first feeding through a nasogastric tube.

It’s all a matter of perspective. This mother never even imagined giving birth to a baby and it not going as planned. But it doesn’t always go the way we think it will. But it’s not about us, it’s about the baby. This is exactly what I thought several months ago when I asked about the delivery of a distant relative of ours. I was told, “Oh, Heather. She was a rock star. She did it without an epidural or any medication.” Really? Does that mean that the mom who was hospitalized, under observation, on bed rest for six weeks and then rushed in for a C-Section isn’t a “rock star?”

I have to say, that I take my hat off to all the moms who do whatever is within their power to safely give birth to their baby. We all know that life doesn’t always go as planned, and that includes minor and major events. These are the times that we rely on our trust in God. Do we trust Him only when things make sense and go according to what our minds can comprehend? Or do we trust Him no matter what, at all cost, at all loss? Of course it’s easier to turn our trust over to Him when life is sweet, but what about when it’s unfair, unkind, and confusing? This is where our faith is at work.

I leave you today with two scriptures I pray challenge you spiritually and bring you comfort and peace.

Proverbs 3:5 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding.” Psalm 34:1 “I will bless the Lord at all times; and His praise shall continually be in my mouth.”

Mommies Enduring Neonatal Death ~ MEND  

*special thanks to Katie for permission in publishing this post~ a strong young woman who is willing to share her heartache to help heal others.  To read more about her and her journey, visit www.emilysmomy.blogspot.com

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

Worth Fighting For

There is a chore that comes along when the weather turns nice. It seems to require more time than we ever want to give, but it’s almost classified as mindless activity. And that’s why I don’t mind it too terribly much. It’s mowing. My husband and I have a routine when it comes to the yard. I mow; he weed eats. I kind of enjoy the time to sit on the John Deere. Several years ago we sold our boat so we could purchase a commercial zero-turn mower. This was a wise investment considering we mow nearly three acres. And even though we never seem to have enough time, I like “having to mow.” It’s something that has to be done, and the time I spend sitting there allows for a roundabout bit of peace, in light of the rumbling sound of the mower.

The thoughts that came to mind yesterday were centered on my marriage. As anyone knows, if you start a home improvement project, there’s likely to be a fight. Well we started a few; several months ago. We added on a closet, remodeled our bathroom, and put in a pool including an outdoor kitchen area. Those are huge blessings that we keep thanking God for, and at the same time, in our flesh and humanity, we found ourselves arguing over the details.

Now, I have two friends who have told me they never fight with their husbands, and I truly believe them. Brandon and I strive to be good examples, inspiring to our children and those around us, but we fight. Not on a daily basis, that would be incredibly exhausting and heart breaking, but we have disagreements and arguments that we face, confront and resolve. Some times are easier and quicker than other times, but nevertheless, we resolve it.

I don’t want to be a disappointment to my readers, but I want to be real with each of you. I wouldn’t want anyone to hold me on a pedestal and assume that my life is perfect, that my attitude never needs adjusting and my lips never say things I regret. I’m human, and so is the man I’m married to, and there are times we really irritate each other.

My heart becomes so heavy because I wonder how many people have blow-ups with their spouse and they think they have a bad marriage, when in all reality they have a very normal marriage. Two people who spoke into my husband and me, profoundly, were our small group leaders. Larry and Joan Lichlyter led our marriage and family class the first ten years of our marriage and they shared absolute truths that are the rock we stand on when we become clouded with the pettiness that tends to creep into relationships.

One truth is found in John 10:10 (NIV),“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” It is essential to remember that satan is our enemy and not our spouse; and it is satan’s desire to destroy our marriage. A scripture that comes to mind is John 16:33 (NLT), “I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” Anything that brings glory to God is going to come under the attack of the enemy. Know that in this world, our marriages are going to face tribulation, but Jesus has overcome the world, and therefore, our marriages have too.

My husband is my greatest blessing. I can’t imagine living a day without him, but rest assured, there are days I’ve thought I couldn’t live with him either! The most effective tool we have when we’re mad, hot headed, angry and full of steam is to humble ourselves, hold hands and pray together. There is absolutely nothing that defuses a situation faster than prayer, and doing it together works miracles right there!

I pray that opening up this, not-so-sunny side of life encourages some hearts to love beyond measure and guard the gift God gave you at the altar of marriage.

Be blessed and enjoy making up--- however you deem fit!

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

Victim or Survivor

Recently at work, I received some words of affirmation and encouragement.  Do any of you relate to feeling uncomfortable or awkward in receiving verbal praise?  Don’t get me wrong.  I love to receive positive reinforcement, but for a person who is rarely at a loss for words, I just never know how to respond. Nevertheless, hearing those sweet compliments blessed my heart, my confidence and my development in this new career.  I said to my husband, “Sometimes I wish I could see me the way others see me.”  As soon as I said it, I said, “Well… maybe not.”  Brandon replied, “That’s right, because although some people see the best in you, there are others who won’t have very positive opinions of you.  That’s why we should ask the Lord to help us see ourselves through HIS eyes; not our own and not others.”  I couldn’t agree more, but this led me to reflect on different times in my life that individuals spoke into me at pivotal moments. One that comes to mind was when I was in the 8^th grade.  My English teacher compared my attitude to the exceptionally positive attitude of Anne Frank.  She told me that when I walked into a room that it lit up.  Those words were spoken to me almost 20 years ago, and still yet, I’ve never forgotten them.  I couldn’t see that in myself, but I felt a sense of responsibility to her opinion of me.  It’s helped me to maintain my effort to deter from negative speech and a mopey disposition when I’m around others.  Even in those crummy days, I aim to not let it affect others.

Another period of my life that molded my character and attitude was, unsurprisingly, when I was injured.  I remember hearing people repeatedly describe me as “a brave little girl.”  The truth is I felt anything but brave.  I experienced feelings beyond fear; complete terror to be honest.  I had confusion and anger; moments of disbelief; a sense of unfairness.  This perhaps was my first memory of wanting to uphold someone’s positive opinion of me, because despite the depth of fear and uncertainty I had, I felt a responsibility to be brave.

I tell you all of this because, in all reality, I didn’t possess the strong characteristics of what was said of me; those were spoken into me.  As I heard how others viewed me, it gave me aspirations to truly be that individual; it gave me character goals, so to speak.  And this boils down to my thought for this post.  It’s that of victim versus survivor.

There are numerous times in life that we’re faced with undeserving circumstances; unpleasant situations; unwarranted conditions.  But those are the times that our character is developed; those are the times that we grow closer in our walk with the Lord and learn more about ourselves than we knew.  It is for this reason that I cringe when I hear the label, “burn victim.”  I say that there are burn patients, burn survivors and sadly, burn victims, but I am not a victim, I am a survivor and overcomer.

Those going through difficult times come out stronger than ever before.  There is a resiliency that cannot be trampled.  There is strength that cannot be weakened.  We have observed this in the inspirational stories from the recently tornado stricken town of Moore, Oklahoma.  My daughter is spending three days with her youth group serving that community, and I know that she is going to observe survivorship first hand; she is going to see strength beyond measure with her own eyes.

You may not be facing the aftermath of a tornado, or the rehabilitation of a severe injury, or the grief of death, but you may be facing a storm.  You may feel weak and helpless.  You may feel scared and overwhelmed.  But I challenge you to see yourself through your Father’s eyes, and consider the message that you can speak into others by their observation of you.

I feel led to leave you with seven scriptures on strength.  Take one a day and speak it out loud over your life this week. Meditate on these words and know that you have the strength of a survivor and overcomer and an attitude that can withstand any negative circumstance.

Day 1~ God arms me with strength, and He makes my way perfect. Psalm 18:32 (NLT) Day 2~ He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to His name. Psalm 23:3(NLT) Day 3~ The Lord gives His people strength. The Lord blesses them with peace. Psalm 29:11 Day 4~ God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble. Psalm 46:1 (NLT) Day 5~ My life is an example to many, because You have been my strength and protection. Psalm 71:7 (NLT) Day 6~ My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; He is mine forever. Psalm 73:26 (NLT) Day 7~ The Lord is my strength and my song; He has given me victory. Psalm 18:14 (NLT)

http://servemoore.com/ https://moore.recovers.org/

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

A Meaningful March

A question that I was asked frequently toward the end of nursing school was, “Where are you going to work?” Some seemed surprised when I responded, “In the NICU at Saint Francis.” First of all, I was a burn survivor and second of all, I promoted Hillcrest Medical Center with my burn survivor story. But there are many stories that make up my life and who I am. One alone does not define me or guide me. Every experience contributes to the person I’ve become and the work I desire to do. As passionate as I am about burn care and the compassion, drive, sensitivity and motivation that burn care nurses provide, my eyes were opened to a whole new world in December of 2003. My first son, Jaron Michael was my biggest baby, born on December 23rd weighing 7 pounds. To our disbelief, Jaron was in respiratory distress and was taken to the NICU at St. John where he was intubated. Forty eight hours later, he was extubated and we were anticipating a quick transition to home. However, we were unaware of the common need for phototherapy and IV caffeine.  It was a heart wrenching process.

Despite every intention to avoid another visit to the NICU, that is exactly where Brandon and I found ourselves when our fourth child, our third son Gavin Lee, was born on July 13th 2009. I had a sudden encounter with some very disturbing symptoms. I lost part of my vision, had a bout with expressive aphasia followed by dysphasia, then transitioned into receptive aphasia. My husband rushed me to St. John Medical Center; I was admitted, and started on the dreaded magnesium sulfate. Once the symptoms had subsided and I was faced with the fact that my baby was going to be delivered five weeks early, I lay in bed and wept, knowing the inevitable. I prayed for the Lord to help me accept that once again my baby would be whisked away by virtual strangers and I would not be able to be with him.

These encounters developed my heart for this area of care. And today I get to do for other babies what I so desperately wanted to do for my own. I support these babies and their families through my work and my walk. For a girl who wasn’t supposed to live, and then wasn’t supposed to be able to walk, and who wasn’t supposed to be able to have children, I get to live and walk with my children for other babies and their families. And that is exactly what we did last week.

Every year we set a $500 March of Dimes fundraising goal; a hundred dollars for each baby. You see, we have five babies in our hearts. We had Brooklyn, and then miscarried our second baby, we had Jaron, our first NICU baby, then Caden, and then came Gavin, our second NICU baby. There is a personal drive to support moms in growing healthy babies, and in helping sick babies get well. It’s all pretty simple, but intricate too.

Our fundraising for 2013 came to $585! Thank you to all who gave support. Every donation, big and small, makes a difference. It made a difference for our family and it makes a difference to this nurse.

How precious is your unfailing love, O God! All humanity finds shelter in the shadow of your wings. Psalm 36:7 NLT

Thank you to our sponsors! Allison Bacon, Mindy Beasley, Stephanie Bennett, Betty Bermudez, Misty Berryhill, Natalie and Donnie Clyma, Susan Cochrane, Court and Lisa Dooley, Margaret Edmonson, Rob and Amanda Emery, Gayle Foster, Sherry and Tim Kelley, Robin and Kirby Meadows, Renda and Nathan Rapp, Emily Forth, Lezlie Glass, Elizabeth Herber, Lori Kelly, Jammie Kern, Megan Lindsey, Kayla and Felipe Martinez, Julia Morrison, Kristy and Greg Morrison, Brandon and Athena Rainbolt, Trevor and Amber Randall, Ray and Emile Tucker, Channing Wedel , Teddy and Denise Wyatt.

March of Dimes Mission

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

I Love You, Mama!

I wasn’t home with my children for Mother’s Day, but I spent the day so thankful that my children were home. During my time at work in the NICU today, my heart went out to the mamas who had their babies in the hospital. Some situations are heartbreaking . While we see many happy endings, there are still those that are extremely sad. These times adjust my focus. I become focused on the simplicity of my life. My children walk and run and play without a thought in the world. They are healthy and active; they are happy and even mischievous. They throw their arms around my neck so tightly and say, “I love you, Mama!” I don’t want to take it for granted, because so many moms would give anything and everything for those invaluable gifts.

My thoughts encompass those daughters who live without their mothers. So many have to say “goodbye” too soon. Some lose their mom during that season of life when their children are small. Some women don’t have their mother when they’re getting married, and some even experience that void before they ever graduate from high school.

Today, I offer up my thankfulness for my children and for my mom. What I pass on to my children has been planted into me. My mom, who taught me to choose my friends wisely; and that although I may not be friends with everyone, that I could be friendly to everyone. She demonstrated to me how wonderful it feels to make others feel wonderful. She spoke those words, “pretty is as pretty does,” and “beauty comes from the inside.”

What would I do without my Mom? Funny to say, but I know. I’d continue to strive and be the kind of mom to my kids that my Mom was and is to me. I’d display strength beyond measure as she displayed to me. I’d live my faith in God, and not just speak it, as was her example before me.

It’s true that every day is a gift. If you were able to wish your Mom a Happy Mother’s Day, or if your children were able to wish you one, consider it a gift. These moments we spend together are precious and they can never be recovered. Soak it up and pray for those who can’t.

And may the Lord make your love for one another and for all people grow and overflow, just as our love for you overflows. I Thessalonians 3:12 (NLT)

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

Happy Nurse's Day

Nine years ago I felt the Lord stirring my heart.  I continually said, “I know He wants me to do something that I’m not doing right now.  I just don’t know what it is.”  For some reason, I visited the OU College of Nursing website and printed some information on the program.  One day at work I told my Dad, “I think God may be calling me to be a nurse.”  My Dad’s response was, “Why would He do that?”  I had a great set up.  I never had to leave Brooklyn who was three and Jaron who was just three months; I either took them to work with me, or worked after they went to bed.  I had fabulous benefits, a secure income and flexibility.  What more could I ask for?  But there was a lot to ask, because life would drastically change in the next year a half.  My Dad died suddenly on the morning of August 29^th 2005.  At the time, I was in the burn center recovering from another round of releases and skin grafts.  That night, I lay in my hospital bed and I said, “I’m going to nursing school.” I could have never anticipated everything the Lord had in store for me when I finally had the opportunity to begin that journey in the fall of 2010.  I only applied to one program and that was none other than the University of Oklahoma College of Nursing.  I’ll never forget getting my letter in the mail April of 2010.  I waited for my husband to get home, which added to my Mom’s anxiety.  We all sat in our living room and I gave Brooklyn the envelope and asked her to open it and read it.  She was 9 years old.  Brooklyn started at the very top, “Heather Renee Meadows 37531 East…”  We all interrupted her and told her to skip down a little. After she read, “we are pleased to inform you,” that was it.  We all erupted in cries of celebration.

That summer of 2010, my dear friend Heather and I rode to the school and tried on scrubs. We had a glorious time.  Then when classes began, it was nothing less than a whirlwind.  Those two years in that program were some of the best in my life, but the hardest, most challenging too.  I never spent a day there that I didn’t feel privileged to be a part of it all.

My very first day of class I met a woman who had a contagious enthusiasm for nursing.  She intimidated me, but intrigued me.  She challenged me, but cheered for me.  She was the champion of her students.  Our time together in Clinical I and II set an unshakeable foundation for me and an unwavering passion for this profession of nursing.  On graduation she gave us a key chain that had a phrase she spoke into us every moment she could.  It said, “Remember, You Need a Nurse to Save Your Life! Love Mrs. B-Dub”

A year ago, I had the honor to receive my Bachelor of Science in Nursing from the University of Oklahoma.  My entire family worked for that accomplishment and they carry pride in what I do with my life each day I go to work. My inspiration comes from so many.  Like my nurse Lois, who cared for me in the burn center 25 years ago and then traveled from Florida to watch me walk that stage. She understood me and calmed me those times I was intubated when I tried to speak. Kelly who was there to see me at Pinning gave care that was always loving, even though it couldn’t be delicate.  Vicki came for my graduation party and she was with me long ago on a night I nearly lost my right leg from a clot after open heart surgery.

Then I have my neonatal experiences.  Our second visit to the NICU in July 2009 we had Noreen.  She connected with me as a mother.  She simply wrote her name on the board and identified with my need for a list.  She wrote out the goals my little Gavin needed to reach before we could expect to take him home.  Noreen gave me security by acknowledging my instinctive nature and drive to care for my baby, and she let me do that in any way that I possibly could.  I relinquished control to her because I trusted her.

Stepping into my role as a neonatal nurse, I have developed endless amounts of admiration for my co-workers.  It began with Donna, my preceptor during my nurse externship in July 2011.  She was a natural teacher and her demeanor was a magnificent blessing to me.  Last summer in 2012, I spent ten weeks being oriented for my job with Carrie.  She was quick, organized, and calm.  She just knew how to get things done and the best way to do it.

As we celebrate Nurse’s Day, I have to pay tribute to these amazing nurses.  Nursing is love.  I can’t imagine a greater way of touching someone’s life than in their time of need.  It’d be impossible to remember every patient, but every patient may remember what a fabulous nurse you were to them—I sure do!

I Peter 4:10 Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in its various forms.

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

25 Years Later

When I Google “anniversary” beaucoups of definitions pop up; like, “the annually recurring date of a past event, especially one of historical, national, or personal importance.” Anniversaries roll around causing recollection of the day’s events.  It’s one of the things that make wedding anniversaries so special. Today marks the 25^th anniversary of a past event of personal importance.  This day never rolls around without some recollection of events, but this year is a milestone, this year, my mind is being flooded with memories both tragic and uplifting.

I’m remembering that beautiful spring day, April 27^th 1988.  I remember the sun shining. Records indicate that the high was 75 degrees with winds at only 5 miles per hour.  My brother Jon and I got off the bus that afternoon and I’m sure did our little chore list that my Mom had on the fridge.  Although it doesn’t stand out in my mind, I’m sure we did them, as was routine for our after school activities.  What I do remember is putting on my play clothes; my shorts and t-shirt and those ever so popular 1980s jelly shoes.  I loved mine, and had them in a few different colors.

I remember Jon and me standing in front of the shed behind my Grandma’s house.  The driveway beside our house wrapped around the back of my Grandma’s and there was a shed and storm cellar right behind her house.  Jon filled up our blue two-wheeler motorcycle and then we proceeded with our plan to visit our friend’s house.  We anticipated no harm on our nearly 3 mile ride away.  We felt so big to see our friends on our own will and at our own convenience. After some time, Jon said it was time to go and we swung our legs over that bike, revved it up, and headed back home.

On that country dirt road there was a factor present which was not present before.  The travel back coincided with travelers returning home from work for the day.  Jon pulled out onto the road behind a small red truck.  The dust stirred up from the truck made it so difficult to see.  My arms were wrapped tightly around Jon’s waist and I turned my head to my right, attempting to avoid the dust that stung my eyes.

It was such a challenge to see.  No goggles.  No helmets.  We were just two children, innocent to the danger that surrounded us.  Jon swerved to the left and all life changed forever.  We hit an oncoming truck.  Jon was killed.  The bike went under the truck.  A fire ignited.

I remember lying in the ditch as flames engulfed me.  I don’t remember pain from my body being on fire.  What I remember is the blur in the flames.  It distracts me to this day when I become mesmerized by the bright colorful light fires produce.  I remember my face feeling unbearably hot.  And I remember someone grabbing me under my armpits from behind and dragging me out of the fire.  That man was my first hero.  That man was the first person who took action to save my life.  It just so happened to be the man we hit.

For the memories being so choppy, I still have a bank of them.  I don’t remember the helicopter ride to the hospital, but I do remember telling my Mom that I wanted to go home.  I remember feeling that if I could just get home that it would all be okay.  She told me that we were going to see the doctor and then we would.

I remember being in a tiny room in the Alexander Burn Center at Hillcrest with a multitude of stuffed animals and posters around me.  Someone put a turquoise My Little Pony on the far left shelf for me.  Those little tokens were a small part of the many gifts I received from my injury.  Yes.  I said gifts.  And the greatest of those were the intangible kind.

Something about tragedy brings out the purest, most kind parts of people. For instance, my Dad’s brother stood on the left side of my bed and promised to take me on a camping trip when I got better.  He made good on that promise.  I remember that big red heat lamp being positioned over my bed in ICU and one of my doctors, on a few different occasions, holding my hand through those excruciating bandage changes.  I remember my brother, Barry and his friend, Chris coming to watch Wheel of Fortune with me.  I remember Barry bringing the entire collection of Alf dolls that Burger King featured.  I remember my friend Brad coming to visit me in ICU.  Brad was our neighbor, and like a brother to me, even more so after I returned home from the hospital.  He had his head shaved to match mine on that visit to the burn center.  He was the only kid allowed to come see me while in ICU and it was perhaps the greatest gift the staff could have given me.  His small amount of time with me reconnected me to who I was—a kid.

So many times I am asked if I remember that day.  Oh how I remember that day and many others.  But I wouldn’t change that.  I wouldn’t want to forget.  If I forgot how bad it was, then I’d lose sight of how great God is.

Memories can be painful, but comforting as well.  We can’t appreciate where we are if we don’t remember where we were.

O Lord, I will honor and praise Your name, for You are my God.  You do such wonderful things!  You planned them long ago, and now you have accomplished them. Isaiah 25:1 (NLT)

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

Proud Emotion

I’m sure it comes as no surprise to say that I’m a crier.  But it’s not all inclusive.  I’m not one to shed tears at Hallmark commercials.  I'm not a big fan of tear-jerker movies, and I don’t lose it at every wedding or funeral.  However, when it comes down to classifying, I have to be put in that category.  I’m just an emotional person and when something touches my heart or comes from my heart, I frequently get choked up. The assumption could be made that since I’m aware of this that I’d be prepared for it or that I’d embrace it, but I’m not and I don’t.  I seem to never have tissues in my pocket or purse, and when I begin to get that lump in my throat, when my nose starts to burn and my eyes start to water, I tend to try and contain it, to hold it back.  I can’t even imagine the faces I make in my attempts.  Why I even try?  I don’t know.

This past Thursday I had “A Mom Moment.”  I was so overcome with pride that those tears were uncontainable.  Our school system has a Student of the Month program.  Two students from the highest grade at each school, elementary through high school, are chosen for this recognition.  The two students’ names are on the marque for their particular school throughout the month, the students have a place to display items that represent them in a case at their school, are recognized in an assembly, featured in the newspaper and treated to lunch with their principal and superintendent, among others.

Our second child, our oldest son, has always been what I would describe as very intuitive.  We’ve been told countless times from his teachers that he is very bright and quite intelligent.  He’s always felt comfortable mingling with adults and expressing his thoughts.  He wants to know the “why” and “how” of things.  He is diligent, competitive, and confident.  We’ve had several discussions with him about showing respect, because when he thinks he is right, he has been known to try and correct his teachers during lessons.

With this strong personality also comes a very sensitive and compassionate nature.  Our son never has a problem speaking his mind or expressing his deep emotion.  He gives and receives love with a kiss, a hug, a pat on the back.  Finding his balance between his intellectual ability and acceptable behavior has been the challenge.  Therefore, when we received the letter that said our child was chosen for Central Elementary Student of The Month, we were ecstatic.  And he was honored with the award this past Thursday.

During the luncheon, our son’s principal read a little bit about him.  His favorite subject, his favorite book, his favorite activity were among the topics, but what gripped my heart was what he wanted to be when he grew up.  Mrs. Dotson said, “Jaron says he wants to be an engineer when he grows up because his Dad is an engineer.”

I should have just let the tears fall, but I tried to contain myself.  So many times we tuck our kiddos into bed and feel like we just got through another day.  They got to school in clean clothes, hopefully with their teeth brushed, we got the homework finished, dinner on the table, practice or games completed, showers, laundry, dishes, shoes collected, school notes signed, and kisses goodnight.  We don’t always stop to think that our children might just want to be like us when they grow up.

The pride I had over my son was immense.  He had achieved not only the academic acknowledgement but the recognition of his character.  And in his moment, I was reminded of Titus 2:7, “And you yourself must be an example to them by doing good works of every kind. Let everything you do reflect the integrity and seriousness of your teaching.”

In our everyday in and out lives, we are preaching the greatest message to the greatest generation- our children.

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

Goodbye Bailey

There was no coincidence that it was raining this morning.  Although it was a steady light shower, it felt like more of a downpour. I bathed my 13 year old lab this past Monday and could feel, not only the tumors she had had on her side over the last three years, but that now she felt emaciated; able to feel her skeletal structure as I lathered her coat with shampoo.  My mom made a statement that struck a chord.  She said, “I can’t believe you’re letting her live like that, Heather.  My goodness, you should know.  You’re a nurse for heaven’s sake.”

I don’t know that being a nurse had anything to do with it, but it was evident that my husband and I were in denial as to the current state of our dog’s health.  We couldn’t bring ourselves to discuss the issue.  Even though we consistently had to clean up accidents, which she didn’t even know she was having, we just didn’t speak of the end.  Even though our dog declined food, scratched the door to come in and out and in and out from confusion, and was challenged with mobility from arthritis, we simply did not communicate letting her go.    That is, until this past Monday when I called to make an appointment with our vet for today, Saturday April 13, 2013, to discuss these issues regarding our beloved pet.

A flood of emotion accompanied the words as we begin to give an account of our dog’s condition.  And that emotion only continued as we proceeded with what we knew was inevitable…. saying goodbye to our Bailey Ann.

We took her into a big room and spread out our big blanket that she loved to lay on when we have movie night.  I gave her treats as she relaxed on the blanket with us.  The vet delicately and lovingly gave her a shot to make her sleep, and then came back to administer that last shot.  I snuggled her and repeatedly told her, “I love you, Bailey.”

We carried her to our car and brought her back home where she belongs; with us.  On that drive I reminisced of the beautiful spring day that my husband and I went to get her.  Our sweet dog never completely lost that playful puppy spirit.  Her body deteriorated but her spirit never did; which is what made it so hard to let go.

In the thirteen years we had to enjoy Bailey, she welcomed home all four of our children and guarded them as if they were her own, she survived being run over four times, she graced the photo of every Christmas card and she greeted us each time we pulled in the driveway or walked in the door.  She was a part of our family before we became a family.

We close a chapter as we bid farewell to our precious pet.  I should only be filled with joy to have had the blessing of such an amazing dog for so many years. I imagine there will never be another like her, our Bailey Ann.

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

A Place To Belong

When I applied for nursing school the three areas of interest that I wrote on my application were labor and delivery, neonatal intensive care, and burn care. Throughout my clinical experience I eliminated labor and delivery. One of the reasons was that I simply was drawn to intensive care settings, I believe because of my experience as a patient in intensive care. Another reason is that I desire to give care throughout a long term process, to see bad situations progress into great ones; them going home! Labor and delivery was too short of a time frame for me; patients deliver and they leave. My only way of gaining insight into where I needed to be for the long haul, was to get into those units for some experience. I had received burn care as a patient, and two of my four children were admitted to the NICU, but being on the side of the bed as a patient and as a nurse are very different worlds. Spending some time in each of these areas as a nurse extern allowed me to gain understanding and truly know where I would be the greatest benefit to my patients.

In the summer of 2011, I did an externship in a neonatal intensive care unit. My first day was undoubtedly one of the worst I had experienced throughout all of my clinical experiences. Being a nursing student is a very humbling experience. I chased after many nurses as they sped down hallways; I stretched my ears to listen to helpful information because it wasn’t always generously offered; I was avoided as if I were a cultured bacteria; I was called “student,” rather than being called by my name. Of course this is a compilation of unpleasant experiences, but none compare to my first day externing in a unit that I was so eager to get exposure. What makes it sad is that it was the actions, and demeaning comments, from one individual that qualified it as “the worst.”

My time to reflect on that Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, has stirred many thoughts and convictions. I will never belittle or intimidate a person to feel superior. I will not negate teaching moments in order to imply that what I know is far above anyone’s learning capability. I will never outgrow Ephesians 4:32, “Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” Because of such instruction, I can set this behind me, gaining the lessons, and moving forward in kindness, compassion, forgiveness and love.

One thing that is great about having a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, is that it makes the others not seem so bad, and it makes good ones seem fantastic! Which is exactly what I experienced on my first day of my current job; returning to the same unit as a new employee. Conditions were not ideal. I arrived to find out that my assigned preceptor was out for the day, but I had a beautiful smiley co-worker snatch me up. Unfortunately she got called to go on a transport call, but yet I had the pleasure of briefly learning from another co-worker, who was as equally friendly and welcoming. A couple of hours later, another blessing arrived. The nurse that was called in for about half the shift poured into me step-by-step instructions. She even shared with me a special moment; my first time to write, “HMeadows, RN!” And the day ended with yet another opportunity to meet a new face. A nurse, my co-worker, came in for the last few hours of the shift. She too, took many opportunities to explain anything she felt would be beneficial for me, and she continually checked on me to see if I needed help.

To add to the joy, my manager kept popping in delivering what I felt were like house warming gifts. She gave me my log-in for the computer, my key to the supply carts, a code list for all the doors, and my own locker. I amusingly made comments about my locker. I’ve heard people say something to the fact of having “a place to hang your hat.” Well I now had a place to put my bag, and that made me feel at home. After all the places I traveled to find where Nurse Heather belonged, I was finally home.

Four different faces blessed my day. Many more contributed to my feeling welcomed and a part. And all of these instances brought to mind John 14:2-3. “My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.” Isn’t that what we all really want? Is to know that there is a place for us? That we belong somewhere? Isn’t it awesome to think that we don’t have to have credentials behind our name to have a place in eternity? Isn’t it absolutely fabulous that we’re not just getting a locker, but a room?

In the meantime, I’m grateful that perseverance is a part of character, and that on the other side of any unpleasant circumstance can be a world of acceptance. We get doses of that now, but it pales in comparison to the acceptance that is in store for us in eternity.

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

Hold You

This past week I cared for a baby who wanted to be held. The baby is experiencing a long stay awaiting repair of a tracheoesophageal fistula and esophageal atresia. While nursing care was a necessity, so was a little TLC (tender, love and care). I spent two days singing, playing pat-a-cake, and even giving a wagon ride. But if I did one thing, it was quite simple, just hold. The same intervention was applied to a baby across the hall who had been made NPO after being on full feeds. That little one was almost inconsolable, except when swaddled and held. Yesterday morning, our third child, Caden woke up and came downstairs. With his sleepy head, he went straight to his Daddy sitting in the recliner, and opened his arms. At six years old there was no better way to start the morning than in his Daddy’s arms being held.

All of this reminded me of when our daughter was little. She picked up on a phrase that derived from a question we asked her frequently. We would ask, “Do you want me to hold you?” Therefore, when she started communicating her needs to us, she would hold her arms up and say, “Hold you.”

I don’t believe we ever outgrow the need for that peaceful comforting feeling we get from being held. There have been countless times in my life that I needed to feel the presence of the Holy Spirit hold me, and I did. And it is because of this beautiful day, this Resurrection Day that I have felt the Lord’s embrace.

In John 14 verses 15-21 Jesus said, “If you love me, keep my commands. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever— the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live. On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you. Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me. The one who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love them and show myself to them.”

Our Heavenly Father has such an overwhelming love for us. And He wants to hold us… every day. We are not alone. We are not orphans. It’s our choice to start our day like my little Caden did with his Dad; to go straight to our Father with arms open wide and soak up that peace, and love and comfort He so freely gives.

Be blessed as you feel Him “hold you.”

~~~ a worship song that so beautifully expresses our desire to be close to our God~~~

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NI_1YliutzA

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

Practice Makes Better

We’ve all heard the phrase “practice makes perfect,” but really?  We know it doesn’t.  I wish there were more of a ring to “practice makes better,” because in all reality, that is the truth.  We get better the more we do something.  We never truly attain perfection. When I commit to something, I give it my all.  When I chose to walk down the aisle and marry my best friend at eighteen years old, I did with a “no backdoor” mentality.  I was committing my life to that young man rain or shine.

When I chose to bring a life into this world and become a mother, I did it with reverence and honor.  I pray for the Lord to grant me wisdom and patience, knowledge and discernment in forming and molding the precious lives He has placed in my care.

When I responded to the call placed on my life to become a nurse, I did it with dedication, giving only my best in my studies and clinical experiences.  This continues on in my professional development.  I desire to work full time to gain the experience I need in becoming a better nurse.  I joined a professional organization to have resources for research and up-to-date information. And I am intentional in building relationships with co-workers who I admire; knowing that their mentorship will yield great results for my tiny patients.

Some tell me this desire to be all that I can be will pass, but I know deep within my soul that it won’t.  I never started any of this as an ego trip or emotional high.  The time I spend in my life is all because I’ve been called to do what I do- as a wife, as a mom, as a nurse.

This isn’t to say that everything has gone smoothly.  No.  There have been days that my husband and I have slammed doors, and days that I have screamed at my children.  There have been days that I didn’t feel I was good at anything I touched.  But it never meant that I wasn’t doing what the Lord wanted me to do.  And I had to remind myself of that just a few months ago.

I was taking care of a baby who had an IV running in the saphenous.  The leg started looking puffy, so I stopped the fluid and began to investigate other sites to start an IV.  This baby had some anomalies, so it was difficult to find a good vein.  I enlisted help, and after five tries, we finally got one.  It flushed sluggishly.  In the grand scheme of things this baby needed a PICC, but my night shift resources were limited, so I was encouraged to use it and keep a close watch on it.

With all diligence, I cared for that IV site, but during my time spent drawing morning labs on the other two babies I was caring for, this baby’s IV infiltrated and left an IV burn.  Despite hyaluronidase injections, this baby ended up with a wound that eventually required surgical depridement.

I hold myself completely responsible for that incident, and it continues to break my heart.  I feel that my little patient paid the price for having an inexperienced nurse.  Looking back, I wish that I would have refused to use that IV.  I wish that I would have demanded we do something different, because in the end, the nurse practitioner decided to just discontinue the fluids saying the infant was getting enough via tube feedings.

This situation undoubtedly made me re-evaluate my career as a nurse. It made me question if I heard correctly from the Lord.  And as great as my God is, He used people to speak words of healing and encouragement to my heart.  One of those was my manager who communicated to me that it was my lack of experience telling me this is was my fault.  That the more experience I get the more I will realize these things happen.  Her taking time to speak those words reminded me of Proverbs 11:25, “A generous person will prosper; whoever refreshes others will be refreshed.”

As much as I intend for that situation to never happen again, I know that others may.  I know that regardless of how much experience I get that I will never be perfect, but I’ll do everything within me to do better and to continue everyday doing better.

Joyce Meyer said, “God’s as interested in the process of a vision as He is in the end result.”  So even in those days that we don’t feel like we’re doing anything well, know that He is at work.  Know that He is making everything better, even us!

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

Behind the Title

Teasing was considered a love language in my home growing up. If anyone knows my oldest brother, Barry or knew my Dad, then you know how quickly amusing moments became. That sense of humor gave me quite the feeling of acceptance this past week. Another nurse and respiratory therapist were teasing me about how I got teary eyed after a delivery a few weeks ago. See, the NICU attends a lot of deliveries and many of those babies we are able to assess and take to newborn nursery. That's the good news. But it's surprising to me how many families are NOT present at the newborn nursery window oohing and awing over their newest addition.

One particular night, we went to a C-section, caught the baby, assessed, ID'd and transported to newborn nursery. Dad accompanied the baby as usual, but when the nursery nurse opened that window there were a slew of people with cameras and smiles and tears pointing at their greatest little treasure. That brand new baby. It warmed my heart, because sadly enough, not all babies are received in that manner.

Well, to make light of my sensitivity, my coworkers teased me this last week about the deliveries I attended; asking me if I was going to get choked up and so on. Silly girls. This progressed on to joking about the way I tend to look for the good in conversations or situations.

I really felt like I belonged. It was those light hearted interactions that only people have when they're comfortable with one another. Like my crazy family did. But it got me thinking. What wires me to look for the positive in things? And that again, goes right back to my family. My parents were two of the most positive people I've known.

My Mom & Dad instilled in me, at a very young age, not to focus on the negative. We can see the obvious and accept reality, but we don't let it become our focus. This mentality is reflected right here on this blog. It’s where the “blessed journey” stems from.

I learned early what makes a person "blessed." Is it all the wonderful things that happen in one’s life? Is it a faithful spouse or obedient children? Is it financial prosperity or career advancements? No. While these all are definitely counted as blessings, those circumstances don't determine if we are indeed blessed.

Psalm 139:5, “You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head.” A blessed life is knowing that we have a loving God who is with us through the good times and bad. No circumstance we face is unfamiliar to Him. That is security! It is actually the unpleasant times that make me realize how blessed I am, to know that I’m not alone and that I will make it through. When we can find the good in situations, the benefit, the lesson, the opportunity for growth, then it's impossible to not feel blessed. And that knowledge affects our outlook. It’s the basis for a positive attitude. It’s joy and happiness regardless.

Be blessed in your journey.

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

My Offering

A year ago this month someone, who I deeply admire, proposed the idea of me starting a blog. I quickly brushed off the idea. It was just hard to imagine that I could offer anything by simply sharing my thoughts and experiences. Nevertheless, the idea was planted, and I began to pray about it. I kept thinking this project would be completely useless and irrelevant if it wasn’t helpful to anyone. My prayers were fueled with a desire for the Lord’s confirmation. I can’t tell you that some supernatural event occurred. Instead a scripture replayed in my mind, like a gentle voice. Colossians 3:17 says, “And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”

Everything that we do we want to be fruitful. But sometimes we have to simply get started. With my prayers I felt a prompting from the Lord, “Do it for Me, I will bless it.” So this blog spot isn’t just a place to share opinions, pictures, or recipes. No, this is my offering. This is a place where I give glory to my God for how great He is.

All of the trials, the lessons, the gifts and blessings are not my own. They are opportunities to glorify the Lord. That is the purpose for each post. And that is my vision for this project. I desire to share these life experiences with as many as will read them. I want to tell the world the great work the Lord does in my life each and every day, and the work He desires to do in each and every individual.

If you feel this is a place you can receive encouragement, would you please help me get the word out and share it with others? By clicking on the “follow” button to your right, you can register to be a part of this venture. Your participation will help in sharing this site to “searchers” on the World Wide Web. If you know a wife, a mom, a working mom, a nurse or nursing student, or anyone going through a trial, I encourage you to ask them to join us here.

Philippians 2:1-2, “Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind.”

My prayers are for that encouragement, comfort, tenderness, compassion and unity to be found at the beginning, the end and throughout all of our days. We are the vessels.

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

A Beautiful Season

I've seen many different seasons in my life and I've observed them in others’ lives too.Seasons of illness, seasons of healing, seasons of pain and seasons of joy. Seasons of little and seasons of abundance. But as I participated in worship last Sunday morning I observed a season coming right from the platform.  And it is a beautiful one.  It is one of restoration.

This goes back to those sweet memories I have from singing on the youth praise and worship team.  The practices and services were spent with a couple of my closest friends.  Katie sang and Mandy played bass guitar.  These girls were involved in almost all the youth activities.  They participated in Christian groups at school, like Youth Alive and See You at the Pole.  I went to concerts and conventions, football games and movies with these ladies.  They were strong Christian friends of mine, even were bridesmaids in my wedding.

Life took some unanticipated turns early.  About a year after graduating high school, my precious friendship with Mandy began to crumble.  To sum the whole situation up, drugs divided us.  I grieved my friend.  At night, my husband would hold me as I would sob for the girl I no longer knew.  I loved her and couldn’t do anything to change the course she was taking.

Six years passed before we spoke.  It was incredibly painful.  But what was worse was to know the personal torment my friend had to go through before steering back to right path.  She lost custody of her two baby girls, she experienced jail and rehab, among other things.

Some may judge and make comments that she was deserving of any heartache she felt along the way; that she reaped her consequences. But I say that we should all attempt to walk in graciousness because we’ve been given an abundance of it. No, it may not be drugs, but we all fall short.  Romans 3:23 “For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard;” and remember in John 8:7 Jesus saying, ““Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”?

Now, let me share with you what I saw last Sunday.  I saw Mandy back on the praise and worship team playing her bass guitar.  I was overjoyed!  Absolutely overjoyed!  My friend illustrates I John 1:9 “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness;” and Ephesians 2:8, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God.”  Let me share with you some other gifts the Lord gave to Mandy.  HE restored her children to her.  HE restored her to have a healthy marriage.  HE restored her to be blessed with another baby.  And now she is up on that platform giving HIM glory with talent HE blessed her with long ago.

Nothing is too far out of our Father’s reach.  Nothing can separate from the love He has for us.  It’s never too late.  It’s a testimony that inspires me to continue to pray for those moms we see too often in the NICU.  The unfair reality of a drug addicted baby provokes sadness and anger.  But my hope for these babies is that their moms will, at some point, be like my friend and experience the life changing restorative power of Jesus Christ.  He is my hope.

Be blessed today as you share His love and grace to others; no matter what season they’re in!

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

My Greatest Dream

I have several accomplishments the Lord has blessed me with in my life. To name them would merely take up room and be insignificant in comparison to my proudest accomplishment and biggest dream come true. It’s a moment that happened twelve years ago today. A day I received a gift that I grew up fearing I may never have. My life changed when a precious baby girl was born. Brooklyn Nicole Meadows arrived five weeks early, to what I would consider much protest. I was preeclamptic and had to be induced. Our exciting, and might I add nerve racking, adventure started the morning of Thursday, March 1st 2001. Brooklyn made her debut at 11:24p.m. on Sunday, March 4, 2001.

While waiting for Brooklyn’s delivery, I had a lot of time to reflect on our journey. It was one that didn’t start with a positive EPT. No, this story went back to a small burn center where a little girl lay fighting for her life. Walking, romance and children were not in the picture; living was the only objective. But what happens after the miraculous healing? What happens when a child is alive, but faced with uncertainties almost too unbearable for an adult to handle? Well, I don’t know the right answer, but I know what I did. I dreamed.

I dreamed of that simple childhood rhyme, “first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage.” My dream got more specific with maturity; a husband and home, a dog and lots of kids. But my insecurities and my self-image had me doubt my dream, even when it started coming true, I was still uncertain.

Brandon and I discussed our plan for a family in premarital counseling. I wanted to be very upfront that there was a big possibility that I wouldn’t be able to have a baby; heavy decisions for an eighteen year old boy. But our love was divine and he was committed regardless. And to our immense delight, we found out we were expecting shortly after our first anniversary.

From my life experiences I have come to believe that the greatest accomplishments come with the greatest challenge. Those life defining moments have been something I’ve fought for, and becoming a mom was no different. At our first prenatal visit, I had my obstetrician inform me that due to the repair on my aorta and the risk associated with me delivering a baby, that she was strongly advising we terminate our pregnancy.

I couldn’t believe the Lord would give me a baby that I might die having. It was a time that I had to walk in complete trust. I stood on Jesus’ words in Matthew 19:26, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

This continued to resound in my heart when we went to the hospital to be induced. I had many emotions. I was concerned for my baby’s safety. I was scared with the unfamiliar terminology. I was insecure about the assumptions being made because of my young age; feeling the need to explain how deeply I desired and already loved my baby.

The day Brooklyn was born ORU was broadcasting a group called The Martins. They sang a song just for me. Not really. But God gave me what I needed in the time I needed it. The words welled up in my soul as they fell upon my ears.

I believe that anything is possible if we understand who Jesus is I believe there's nothing that can stop us if we learn to dream like Jesus did So don't limit your ambition to what's commonly defined God has a special heart for those who walk outside the line Don't be afraid to spread your wings and fly It doesn't hurt to try If you're gonna dream...

Dream big It's the Lord's desire for you to Dream big In everything you say and do You'll see your greatest dream come true 'Cause all of Heaven is dreaming big for you

I received the greatest gift in my life three weeks before my twentieth birthday. My baby girl was placed in my arms and I became a Mom. The impossible was possible. My dream had come true. And it comes true every single day that I get to be the Mom to her and our three boys. I believe my children’s existence was far greater than me. The Lord would have blessed someone with these precious souls, and I’ve been given the greatest honor that He chose me.

Be blessed today as you walk outside the line; as you dream your greatest dream.

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

Forever Changed

I’m not a fan of scary movies.  Even suspenseful movies really unsettle me.  The music gets intense, everything seems to slow down, and the agony of the unknown, yet highly anticipated, makes me feel as if I’m choking on my heart.  I find myself hiding my eyes and asking my husband to just tell me what is happening.  Or I take multiple bathroom breaks to reorient myself to reality. It is because of this, that I deeply enjoy Disney movies; not that Disney movies depict much reality.  Rather it is the “happily ever after” and the “when you wish upon a star,” that I love.  You see, I know what it feels like to live out scary moments, to feel the uncertainty of life; those times in life that we truly wish we could hit some kind of skip button or fast forward.  I don’t have to watch a movie to get that kind of thrill.  I’ve had my fair share of those emotions.

After my injury, at the commencement of my rehabilitation, one of my surgeons told my parents that I would physically wear out before my surgeries were ever completely finished.  And to a certain extent, he was right.  I sit here almost twenty-five years later, and still have procedures that I can account for in my future.  Honestly, I am a bit sick of it.  I’ve grown up on and off of the operating table.  But the benefits I’ve gained from living in this body outweigh the cost I’ve had to keep it and make it fully functional.

As sad and depressing as some of this may sound, I have a foundational truth that I focus on:  my life as a burn survivor will NEVER be the same, but it is still good.  That’s the challenge that I see people facing when tragedy arises.  They desperately want their life to be what it was.  They want to come out of trials, and return to some type of normalcy they had before.  The fact is; you will never be the same.  Losses that we encounter, pain that we endure, changes us forever.  But we find a new normal.  And at some point we begin to feel the “happily ever after(s)” again.

These thoughts arose from one of  my orientation assignments to care for two dying babies, from two different families.  One family just wanted the nightmare to end.  They avoided the inevitable, unable to make such unfair decisions and unsettling arrangements.  They just wanted everything to be okay.  The other family displayed such strength and courage, always there at the bedside, even having a photographer capture their baby for the time they had.  My heart broke for both of these mothers.  There is something wrong when you know that a new mom will not be able to take her baby home to the nursery she prepared, and will rather purchase a casket.

I wanted to have that magical remote control, that I’m sure would be available if life were lived as a Disney story, to fast forward those families through that time, to happier times that I know will one day find them again.  I wanted to shield them from the absolute torment only a parent would know to bury their baby.  But as much as I know they will never be the same; I know they will still be okay.

I Peter 5:7 reminds us, “cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.”  And further says in verse 10 “and the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will Himself RESTORE you and make you STRONG, FIRM and STEADFAST.”

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

The Thrill of Soarin'

There's a song by Crystal Lewis called, "For Such a Time as This." The title may sound familiar. The words are what Mordecai chose to challenge Esther to do the extremely difficult. To summarize the situation, in Esther 3:12-13 we are informed that King Ahasuerus gave instruction to "destroy, to kill, and to annihilate all Jews, young and old, women and children, in one day." Mordecai sent word to Esther, the queen, and commanded that she go to the king and plead with him on behalf of her people. The danger for Esther was that she had not been called by the king, which could cost her her life (Esther 4:11). Mordecai's reply to Esther ended with "And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?" None of us can relate to the task set before Esther, but we all have a task, a calling the Lord has set before us. I confront mine each time I go to work.

You see, I was quite content in life when the Lord began to stir something deep inside my heart. My spirit and my mind were unsettled as I knew He was preparing me to do something that He hadn't yet revealed to me. That began nine years ago this month.

I can identify with the description in Crystal Lewis' song of how those "windless waters are so much more peaceful." It would have been easy to give the Lord my list of inadequacies when He revealed to me that I would become a nurse. I could have unnecessarily reminded Him that I was never a strong math or science student and that a bachelor's in nursing meant a bachelor's in science. I could have pleaded that I couldn't be on my legs for extended periods of time. Or used my children, explaining that I couldn't be the mom I wanted to be while pursuing a career.  All excuses to avoid the challenge.

That would have been the windless water path. That would have been the "content to not ask those questions that stir the river, that move the waves."  But the Lord wanted something specific for my life and He will carry it on to completion (Philippians 1:6).

Each time that I step into my unit, and approach the desk to get my assignment I feel completely inadequate.  And I am; on my own. But my Father has equipped me with every good for doing His will (Hebrews 13:21), and He is providing people along the way to pour into my life to make me all He has called me to be. For instance, I spent the first three nights of this week working in our small satellite unit with two other nurses. They casually gave me words of affirmation and encouragement, and they took opportunities to teach me in such respectful and delicate ways. It's humbling and rewarding.

One day, I will look back and be so grateful that I chose to step out in faith to do the difficult. In all reality, I already am, yet I still have so far I hope to go. I love the ending to Crystal's song, "sometimes the thrill of soarin' has to begin with the fear of falling." There are times that we are so afraid of failing that we contemplate never trying. I have to admit that I considered such on the brink of nursing school, but what would I have missed? Look what all I would have missed, and all that is in store!

Climbing higher means a steeper slope. A steeper slope means more discomfort and challenge. Are you in that windless water place? Is God calling you to climb higher?

At times, we don't think what we have to offer is so spectacular. Esther didn't feel extraordinary, but the work the Lord set before her was (read on through Esther 8). And He has set a work before each of us. If we don't step out in faith, if we turn away, then what will we miss?

Be blessed today as you climb higher in Him!

04 For Such A Time As This  click to hear "For Such a Time as This" by Crystal Lewis

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com

My Valentine

I have movie clip like memories that play through my mind on random occasion.  Some of those memories are amusing to my mind, like when my brother, Jon and I use to catch frogs out of our pool in the off season; I’ll spare you the detail of what we did with them after that.  Some are sad, like when I fell on the gravel road trying to catch up with my family on an afternoon walk after picking a pear off my Grandma’s tree.  It was my first time for stitches.  Others are exciting like when my Aunt Donna visited with her brand new little bitty lhasa apso puppy named, Precious.  Some are fun, like when my cousins, and Jon and I, danced in our grandma’s garage to “Heaven is a Place on Earth,” by Belinda Carlisle.  Then there are those tragic memories, the vision of flames from lying in a burning ditch; followed by the heartbreaking memory of when my Mom and Dad sat beside my hospital bed trying to explain that my brother was dead. There is an array of different genres from these movie clip like memories.  But in light of the recent celebration of Valentine’s Day, I’d like to share some of my favorite with you.  These memories fall into the romantic films category, and it couldn’t be a sweeter story if it came right out of a fairytale.

My husband and I met in August of 1996.  We were introduced to one another at a Driller’s baseball game that hot summer night in Tulsa.  Neither one of us took much interest in one another.  I think it took some time for us to even realize we were being set up by our friends.  We were polite and friendly, but nothing that would classify as love at first sight.  As disinterested as we both recall feeling, it’s quite funny that we still remember how we both looked that night.

Once we officially had met, we then noticed each other more at school.  I was a junior and he was a senior.  I remember sitting in French class one morning and the door was opened to our classroom.   Brandon passed by, then backed up, and waved at me from the hall.  I wasn’t completely sure if he was waving at me or someone else, so I just smiled.  As soon as he walked away, I turned to the girls behind and to both sides of me, and asked if they had waved at “that person” in the hall.  Neither of them had any idea what I was talking about, so I just said, “never mind,” and turned around in my seat feeling on top of the world.

Our friends began to tease us because we started spending a lot of time together, but refused to admit that we were dating.  We told everyone that we were simply spending our extra time together.  Funny how much “extra” time we seemed to all of a sudden have.  We went bowling, to concerts, to the movies and even went fishing.  I think I realized I must have felt something for this guy when he asked me if I liked hockey, and I heard myself say, “I love hockey.”  In honor of the 90s, “whatever!”  He knew me better than I thought because we never went!

I remember the bear he gave me when I had surgery to have my wisdom teeth removed.  I remember how I felt like my heart literally moved when I’d answer the phone and hear his voice on the line.  I remember how we would laugh together; how everyone thought he was so quiet but I got to see his humor and wit.  And many months later, I remember that unforgettable moment, our first kiss.

One of my most treasured possessions is our wedding invitation that one of my husband’s aunts had framed for us as a wedding gift.  It says, “a glance; a smile; became a friendship; grew into love.”   My husband gave me the greatest gift of his friendship and God gave us the greater gift of love.  With all of my being I had asked the Lord to send me someone that would see me as HE saw me, because I Samuel 16:7 says, “The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

I was a seven year old little girl when I looked in the mirror and saw what people looked at; my scars.  I grieved then for what I thought I may never have; someone to love me and cherish me and honor me.  I feared I would never walk down that aisle in a beautiful white gown to a handsome groom.  I contemplated the possibility that I may have to settle for companionship rather than wait for passion.

But my memories are the most romantic I could have ever dreamed.  I have a love to call my own.  I have a Valentine who does not look at the things people look at; no, he looks at the things my Father looks at; the heart.  And that is the kind of man, who will always hold mine.

** did you enjoy this post?  if so, please share with your friends and family through email or social media**

Connect with Us! Click Here to Subscribe

Could our story be of benefit for your group or upcoming event?  Click here to contact us!

Want to read what others have to say about previous events? Read them here.

Choose this link to see a video of our story and some previous events

personal messages welcomed to speaking@heathermeadows.com