The Gift of Life

There are pains I can’t imagine.  Sometimes my thoughts wander that direction.  Sometimes I question myself.  Would I be strong?  Could I endure?  Is my faith secure? One such pain is that of losing a baby.  I remember the emptiness I experienced when we miscarried our second baby.  We had tried for eight months, and after seven weeks of pregnancy, we miscarried.  I had this sense of failure, of guilt and responsibility.  Brandon and I had anticipated having that baby before we even had a confirmed test.  We grieved the life we would never know, the baby we would never hold, the little cry we would never hear.  It was a loss that changed me.  It was a loss that gave me a glimpse to a pain I can’t imagine, carrying a baby, delivering and burying such a small body.

It grips my heart to know and see families endure this pain.  Last week I had the privilege of sharing a time of remembrance and reflection with families who have suffered the loss of their baby.  Each year the labor and delivery and neonatal intensive care unit staff at Saint Francis Hospital holds a service in memory of our babies lost.   I was honored to share the closing at our eighteenth annual Angel Tree Memorial Service.  I sought the Lord for words of hope, comfort and peace.  He was faithful to provide, but it was the time during the service when the families shared their stories that testified to the hope, comfort, peace, strength, endurance and faith only one who has walked that road can share.

A few days before the service, I read an insert in the Tulsa World featuring Life Share Oklahoma stories.  The front story was “Pistol Annie,” written by her mother, Abbey Ahern.  This family had remarkable faith and bravery.  Their precious baby was diagnosed with anencephaly, and they made a decision to give life through her precious life.  Their baby girl passed away 14 hours and 58 minutes after her birth, and became the first newborn infant organ donor in the state of Oklahoma.  Abbey shares their journey through her blog, Tomorrow Will Be Kinder.  There she quotes, Angie Smith, “I gave my deepest hurt to the Father who wanted nothing less than every bit of it.”

It is true that a mother carries her children in her heart forever; however short a time they are given.  Selah sings a song in memory of member Todd Smith’s baby titled, “Audrey’s Song.”  The lyrics reflect the faith and assurance these families display.

“I will carry you.

While your heart beats here

Long beyond the empty cradle

Through the coming years

I will carry you

All my life

And I will praise the One Who’s chosen me

To carry you”

Personally, I know how great of an impact these babies make from the moment they enter our world.  Each staff member who steps in to provide care is touched by that life, and we are deeply grateful to the families who allow us to share those moments with them.

As we enter this Christmas season, and scurry around finding the perfect gift, let us reflect on the One who came to give us the most perfect gift.  Life.  His gift is eternal and His gift gives us the peace to know that one day these families will be reunited where there will be no more pain, or sorrow, or suffering; only life; never ending.

visit www.lifeshareregistry.com to register to be a donor

Audrey's Song:  (Angie Smith shares their story on her blog at angiesmithonline.com)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J2CnUtVY35o

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My Voice

It is a regular occurrence for me to sit down and write to a faithful group of people who follow my blog.  These people know my heart and my intentions.  They allow me the privilege to share my life and my take away lessons from the experiences I encounter. I encountered an individual who jumped to conclusions and made a hasty judgment on me.  This person used his authority as a means of intimidation; not receiving any of the words I spoke in attempt to bring clarity to the situation.  In an industry driven by customers and cognizant of customer service, a polite manner was furthest from the approach.  Bold words were spoken and a crass tone used by this employee.

I was Completely Misjudged that day.  As I do, I sat down to share my life with my readers.  So often people are misjudged or mistreated and yet have no voice.  Now that I have used my voice, it seems that maybe I should not have shared the name in which I was so boldly instructed to get right.

While some were quite displeased with me sharing my experience, others were glad for the attention brought to the matter, as they had experienced very similar encounters in that same store.  My sharing my experience provided a level of accountability.  My Pastor use to say, integrity is how you act when no one is watching.  How differently would the interactions have been had it been known that the experience would be written about and shared?

I am so grateful that those who truly know Heather Meadows knew my heart and read my words.  That is why when I was at work, taking care of sick babies today, my manager called me in her office to confirm just that.  Despite a phone call to our human resources department, in an attempt to attack my job, my human resources department read my blog, contacted my manager and found there to be no negative reflection on my hospital through what I shared.  My manager reaffirmed that I hold the values of my organization and provide excellent, compassionate care and service to my babies and their families.  It matters how we treat people, at all times.

Even though there has been the generous support of my family, my friends, my faithful blog followers and my place of employment to leave it all as I said it, I have edited the post because this blog is about me offering encouragement through my life experiences.  Monday was a huge life experience for me, as I’d never been perceived as a shoplifter.  It wasn’t about revenge; there was no name-calling or slams, it was about my incredibly unpleasant experience and my desire for this man to know that’s not who I was, since he wouldn’t receive those words of explanation from my own mouth.

I’ve learned that I will never take an item that I own, that is my property, that I have proof of ownership without first checking it with customer service.  It’s something I’ve done countless times before and never thought a thing of it, but will from now on be mindful to do.

But I still ask, what has this assistant store manager learned?

I would never speak to one of my baby’s families in such a way and I would hasten the opportunity to apologize if it were offered to me.

For that reason, Assistant Store Manager’s Family, I apologize that my words hurt you.  I believe professionalism and excellence is our own responsibility when we are at our place of employment.  Maybe this situation will help yours to improve that.  Out of consideration for you, I have removed his name from the post and deleted all the comments since many of them included his name

Proverbs 18:21

The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.

Pursuing His plan, His love and His character despite the unpleasant bumps in the road.

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Holiday Tradition

One of my Dad’s favorite movies was Fiddler on the Roof.  You might be inclined to think my Dad was a fan of musicals.  He wasn’t at all.  My Dad admired the leading character’s value for tradition and family.  Dad had such respect for the customs of the Jewish people, and while there are multiple themes from the story, it was the father’s strong desire to preserve those customs and traditions that made this movie a household favorite. While I didn’t grow up in a home with strong religious customs, we did have, what I would consider, a few traditions.  And those traditions were always associated with this time of year.  My Mom loved to host a big Thanksgiving for our family and friends.  Dad and I would tease her that she wasn’t happy unless fifty people were there.  But there was a bit of truth in it.  Mom loved large gatherings.  On Christmas Eve we always went to my Aunt Sarah and Uncle Roy’s.  Again, it was a large gathering with delicious food.  Everyone would visit and laugh; it was so loud, but with the happiest sounds heard when families come together.  It was the sound of delight to be together, joy in one another’s company, and love.

Seasons change and so did our traditions.  The first big change occurred when my husband and I married and we attempted to blend it all together.  More changes came along with each child.  And the last big change took place when I began working as nurse.  Our holiday festivities are tailored around my unit’s holiday schedule, but it’s an accommodation my family makes out of their support and vision for what I do.

Throughout all the changes, adjustments and accommodations, my husband and I have been able to maintain one tradition we set on our very first Christmas back in 1999.  Cutting down our Christmas tree.  I grew up with an artificial tree, so it was quite exciting to me to experience picking out a tree, tying it to the roof of the car, and bringing it home, smelling the aroma of a fresh tree throughout the Christmas season.

And keeping with tradition, that is what we did yesterday.  We kicked off the Christmas season at the Christmas tree farm.  On the drive, random thoughts filled my mind.  One of them was about the dad who thanked me for taking care of his baby the day before, on Thanksgiving Day.  I spent Thanksgiving maintaining my focus on the fact that I had four healthy children at home.  My shift would end and I would leave to drive home to a relaxing, comforting place.  Many families didn’t have such a blessing this year.  And there was one of them, expressing his thankfulness for people to take care of his sick baby.  It was so touching to me that in the midst of his baby being in intensive care, he acknowledged that I was away from my family to be there with his.

Whichever tradition, whether it was Black Friday shopping with the girls, putting up lights on the house, catching another football game, conjuring up recipes from Thanksgiving leftovers, or getting a Christmas tree, it all comes down to who you spend it with.  Sometimes modifications are required, but it’s a small adjustment to make considering the big picture.

The Grinch had to steal Christmas to think “of something he hadn’t before!

‘Maybe Christmas,’ he thought, ‘doesn’t come from a store.’

‘Maybe Christmas…perhaps…means a little bit more!’”

The Whos down in Who-ville still had something to sing about when it was all stripped away.  So whether or not there's lights and presents, food and games, whether it's an official holiday or a postponed gathering, we all have a reason to sing!

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A Little Insight

Can you picture with me a sixteen month-old baby?  Most likely, they have recently tackled the art of walking.  Although they may be unsteady at times, they get from one place to another with determination and speed.  They have independence in their ambulating, no longer solely dependent on someone to pick them up and carry them. They may weeble, they may wobble, sometimes trip and stumble, but they know where they want to go and they teeter around until they get there. This is the picture of me, and how I felt this past week.  While I’ve developed as a NICU nurse and “found my feet,” I nevertheless felt somewhat wobbly walking into my assignment. The time we allot to report off from night shift to day shift was also utilized the other morning to set up for a common procedure on preemies; a PDA ligation.

Despite the confidence and competence I’ve gained over these last sixteen months, I had never been involved with, observed or cared for, a baby on a PDA ligation day.  Therefore, I expressed this to the cardiac coordinator.  Yes, it was humbling, and somewhat embarrassing, but I didn’t want there to be an assumption that I was well versed in my role for this procedure.  My personal pride, and her assumption of my expertise, was not worth an oversight.  And she was more than gracious in explaining what needed to be done in preparation, in addition to what I needed to do post op.

The procedure went smoothly and was completed in under an hour.  The rest of the day was not as smooth.  I titrated dopamine and gave a bolus of normal saline as ordered to maintain the baby’s mean blood pressure within set parameters.  I administered morphine and versed as ordered, and still found it troubling that I couldn’t get the baby’s heart rate out of the consistent 230s range.  I assisted in failed attempts to place a peripheral arterial line.  I reluctantly continued drawing CBGs and a repeatedly clotted CBC sample via heel sticks on my minimal handling protocol patient.  Ventilation changes to the conventional ventilator and JET were made in response to the result of some concerning cap gas results.

All throughout the day, I questioned myself as to what nursing intervention I should make.  I did everything I knew to do, and yet wasn’t getting the results I desired nor the assurance that I wasn’t missing something.  At one point, I asked one of our unit’s highly knowledgeable and respected transport nurses what she thought I should do.  She seemed hesitant to brainstorm with me, as she knew I had already inquired to one of the neonatologists.  I said, “Okay, listen NICU nurse of eight years, versus this one of sixteen months, I need some insight.”

And sometimes, that’s all we need.  We need a little insight.  The fact of the matter is, that baby’s circulatory system had made a big change, and the time of transition is bumpy.  It’s par for the course.  I showed up that day with the skill and knowledge to care for that baby, but I was just a little wobbly.  I knew where I was headed.  I knew the goal.  But I needed a little assistance and reassurance in getting there.

No matter where we are in our walk, or which walk we’re walking; whether it’s our walk with the Lord, our walk in our marriage, our walk as a parent, as a friend, as a professional; the fact is, sometimes we need a little insight, a little assistance, a little reassurance.  Sometimes we still need a little support.  Like those sixteen month old wobbly walking, yet focused and confidently independent new walkers, there are times that require us to reach up and grab a hold of a little help, even if it’s just a finger to hold.

Psalm 121:1-8 (NIV) 1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from? 2 My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. 3 He will not let your foot slip—
He who watches over you will not slumber; 4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep. 5 The Lord watches over you—
the Lord is your shade at your right hand; 6 the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night. 7 The Lord will keep you from all harm—
He will watch over your life; 8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going 
both now and forevermore.

~~ a good video of a PDA ligation procedure ~~

caution: not everyone would enjoy watching

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOj6K_BoIAc

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Tough Doings

There was a radio talk show I frequently listened to about ten to twelve years ago. One of the hostess’ lines was, “I am my kid’s mom.” Do you remember, Dr. Laura Schlessinger? Over time, her unfiltered thoughts have gotten her in some hot water, but back then she was entertainingly edgy. I was a very young mom, starting off at the tender age of twenty. Like most moms, I wanted to do everything right. No, I take that back. I wanted to do everything perfect. Therefore, I felt a sense of approval from listening to Dr. Laura’s radio program, because I was indeed, “my kids’ mom.” I had the privilege of working part time in our family business, and either taking my babies with me, or my own mom staying home with them.

This arrangement was nothing of my own doing. It was an opportunity placed before me when my husband and I were discussing starting a family. It was none other than a magnificent blessing. But I’m just going to be honest; there can be an attitude of superiority that accompanies the privileged stay-at-home mom. It’s the notion that stay-at-home moms are doing and sacrificing the most for their children, that they are truly putting their kids above everything else. Having been on both sides of this fence, I know that in all reality, being a stay-at-home mom is not based on how important the role of being a mother is to someone. Of course, it’s the most important role of all. But there are numerous factors that play into what we do with our time as our children are growing up. And it all boils down to what God has called us to do.

James 4:13-17 13 Look here, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we are going to a certain town and will stay there a year. We will do business there and make a profit.” 14 How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone. 15 What you ought to say is, “If the Lord wants us to, we will live and do this or that.” 16 Otherwise you are boasting about your own plans, and all such boasting is evil. 17 Remember, it is sin to know what you ought to do and then not do it. (NLT)

This is not a post about working moms versus stay-at-home moms. This post is about doing what we know God has called us to do. And that’s not always obvious or easy. It takes prayer. Much prayer. Continual prayer, long into the time we are walking out what God has placed before us.

And prayer is what got me to work three days ago. I had enjoyed my monthly eight-day stretch off, and during that time, found out that Brooklyn, my twelve year-old, was ready to get her braces off. The earliest appointment was the day I was scheduled to go back to work, and there were no appointments the following week available that coincided with the days I was off to take her. I didn’t want her to have to wait for that momentous occasion, so her Grandma took her and shared that incredibly exciting time with her.

My prayer that Thursday morning, started off a bit whiny. It went something like, “Lord, I know You’ve called me to take care of the sick babies today, but why couldn’t Brooklyn have been ready to get her braces off on a day that I could take her? I’m so sad to miss this moment with my only daughter. Please help me to focus on You and what You have for me to do with this day.”

I got to work and was assigned a fourteen day-old baby that was born sixteen weeks and three days too soon. My petty issues melted as I received report and began my assessment to care for a baby with head, heart, lung and bowel problems. This baby’s parents came to visit, standing at that isolette, yearning for a positive report. It’s so very uncertain if they’ll ever have the blessing of taking their precious gift home. And there my day started with a prayer over silly braces. I got to walk in the door that night and see my daughter’s beautiful new smile. Today, I don’t know if that family will get to experience such an encounter with their baby.

I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that God has called me to be a nurse, but still yet, I pray. It’s a constant evaluation, and I don’t believe it will ever be easy. And why should it be so? Since when was following the will of God easy?

CT Studd said, “If Jesus Christ be God and died for me, then no sacrifice can be too great for me to make for Him.”

Yes, I’m still my kids’ mom, but yes, even above that, I’m pursuing the Master’s Plan. I place my continual trust in His hands regarding my children. I know that He can do more in their life than I could ever do on my own, if I follow what He wants me to do in mine.

Not an easy plan, but the better one. HIS always is.

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Mean Nurse

There are things we never forget. Those things seem to fall on the far end of the spectrum. You know, those super happy moments, incredibly romantic times, broken-hearted instances, or caught-off-guard encounters. One thing is for sure; moments don’t have to be special to be memorable. Brooklyn remembers a time that we were almost run off the road by an enraged driver. She was about six, Jaron about three and Caden was probably close to a year old. We were coming home from Brooklyn’s dance class when a red Chevy truck sped up to get around us, switched lanes to get back in front of us and then slammed on his brakes. The driver definitely wanted to express that it wasn’t a coincidence because he repeated the cycle. It was obvious enough that even the little girl in the back took note of the situation and was experiencing very real feelings of fear. So much that she remembers it to this day.

Those are things I don’t understand. Why be so outraged against someone? Who knows? I’m not the best driver, to say the least. Maybe I cut him off. Maybe I slammed on my brakes and didn’t realize he was behind me. It’s most definitely a possibility considering I had three small children in the car, one of them a baby who could have been fussing, resulting in a distracted mother. Regardless of the probable mistake, there was no need for such a situation.

You may be thinking, “I can’t believe that guy! What a jerk!” But we see these things all the time, and not just on the Broken Arrow Expressway. It’s so unfortunate, but it can even come from a profession of people that is so uncharacteristic of the profession itself. Nurses.

One of the most notable characteristics of the nursing profession is compassion, and yet there’s the saying that “nurses eat their young.” It’s not just a funny notion; no, it’s a for real disheartening reality. I don’t understand the purpose. I suppose there is some sense of initiation that accompanies such behavior. Or maybe the belief that the newcomer will “prove themselves.” Whatever the idea, it for sure compromises patient safety and threatens positive outcomes. I mean, who wants to ask questions of someone who is mean to you? The result? Some don’t ask. They wing it or go with a hunch.

I’ve read that the nursing profession is anticipated to grow by leaps and bounds due to an aging baby boomer generation in combination with the changes to our current health care system. This means that nurses can expect a continual trend of orienting new employees, mostly consisting of new graduates with no nursing experience. Yes, this is taxing on nurses, but responding to new grads or students with curt expressions and abrasiveness won’t stop the growth, but it will change the culture and endanger the population we work so strongly to help; our patients.

Rather than look at students and new grads as a nuisance, maybe we should take a lesson from Elijah and Elisha. Elijah signified Elisha as his successor in I Kings 19:19 when he put his cloak around him. Then in II Kings 2:9, as Elijah’s ministry was coming to an end, Elijah asks his apprentice what he can do for his apprentice, a truly selfless concern. And in much wisdom, Elisha replies, “Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit.”

Isn’t that awesome?! How would it be if we were more concerned about the people we are training than about what is happening to us? Maybe we could pass on far greater things than we could accomplish had we chose to go without the hassle, inconvenience and burden of teaching, instructing and mentoring. The nurse who oriented me in my job as a neonatal nurse was an Elijah in my life. She encompassed everything I hope to be as a nurse; kind, compassionate, knowledgeable, a critical thinker, calm, organized, efficient; the list truly could go on. I desire to be like her one day, and give back to new nurses as she so graciously gave to me.

Everyone benefits when we give more than we take; even us. Let’s change the reputation of nurses eating their young, and start anticipating a double portion yield out of the investments we make into others. God can multiply it if we offer it!

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So Sorry

A broken record may accurately describe parents in the process of training kids, especially in the area of manners.  “Say, ‘Thank you.’”  “Say, ‘Please.’”  “Show kindness.”  “Be gracious.”  “Give forgiveness.”  For The Meadows, this is the most challenging inside our home.  It appears that it’s easier to be considerate of those outside our home, but more of a challenge inside the walls of our own house. We have a routine that when one of the kids wrongs the other, they must apologize, and the offended must forgive.  Confessing, “I’m sorry,” and hearing, “It’s alright,” is not considered a resolution here at the homestead.  Many long talks have been birthed from an offense.  Explanations are given.  Insight is provided.  In the end, the goal is to express, “I’m sorry for…..,”  and a heartfelt, “I forgive you,” in response.

It’s a difficult concept to teach forgiveness; mostly because our nature is to hold on to offenses.  Why?  Because we are human, and we were born sinners, meaning we were born selfish.  Holding onto an offense in a way, provides the justice we believe should be given.  In the end, it hurts us far more than the person who caused the offense in the first place.  Matthew 6:14-15 says, “For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.

The point is; justice is not ours to provide.  We don’t have to pick up the phone informing others of the wrongdoing.  We don’t have to rally supporters to validate our offense.  We don’t have to give a cold shoulder or a bitter spirit.  Romans 12 gives us instruction in handling these situations that are all so common to man.

17 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. 18 If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. 19 Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. 20 On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.  In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” 21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

We forgive because we have been forgiven for far greater things than could ever be done to us.  We forgive so we know we did all that was possible for us to do.  We forgive knowing that justice is the Lord’s to provide; He will vindicate; not us.  We forgive to pursue and protect a pure heart, to guard against bitterness, to not be overcome by evil.

When confronted with an offense, whether it’s at work, in the marriage, in the family, whether it’s petty or significant, whether resolution is attained or unfortunate deterioration; forgive.  Our forgiveness isn’t dependent on the outcome; it’s dependent on our obedience.  God is in control; we don’t have to be.  Let Him fight the battles.  As far as it depends on us, live at peace, show love, be forgiving.

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Courageous Dreams

Brandon, Heather, Brooklyn, Jaron, Caden & Gavin Meadows are big Disney fans!  This fact is no secret to anyone who remotely knows our family.  We find it amusing to work lines from Disney movies into our everyday conversation.  Just last night, when Jaron, our nine year-old, was off to take his shower after soccer practice, I reminded him to pay attention to certain anatomical locations.  He turned around and quoted a line from Timon in Lion King 1 ½, “Mom, I’m not a little kid anymore!”  We all burst in laughter! Brandon and I have never outgrown our enjoyment of Disney animation.  I remember back to when Toy Story 2 was released in theaters.  It was early in our marriage, so we didn’t have children yet.  Our schedule must have been pretty packed the Friday and Saturday of its premier; therefore, we resorted, despite our guilt, to skipping Sunday church in order to see it.

We currently see the same interest and excitement in our children.  Brooklyn is twelve, and yet still enjoys our Friday night family movie, which almost always is a Disney one.  And she is one of the best in the family to incorporate those Disney lines!  This makes it even funnier to us, because she’s the least animated of the kids.  When she works in a punch line, it’s hysterical, because it’s unexpected.

A couple of weeks ago, Brandon and I were sipping on our coffee while the kids munched on their cinnamon rolls, our normal Sunday morning routine.  Brandon asked the kids what were their dreams of becoming when they grew up.  He followed it with a passionate quote from Rapunzel in the movie Tangled, “Haven’t you ever had a dream?”

The conversation continued as each child expressed their dream.  Brooklyn shared that she wanted to be a veterinarian, out of her deep love for animals.  Jaron shared that he wanted to be a mechanic because he loved cars.  Caden shared that he wanted to be an engineer because he loved legos.  Even Gavin, our four year old, enthusiastically shared that he was going to be Spiderman when he grew up.

In our normal family way, we related this conversation back to Disney.  We spoke about Cinderella who believed in her dream.  In her song, A Dream is A Wish Your Heart Makes, she sings, “Have faith in your dreams and someday, your rainbow will come smiling through.

Then we spoke about Princess Tiana who, despite Mama Odie’s “Dig a Little Deeper” song, still emphasized her own strong work ethic in seeing her dream come true.

And of course, we acknowledged the man himself, Walt Disney who didn’t give up.  He made his greatest contribution to animation with Mickey Mouse only after losing his first successful animated character, Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, to another studio.

This may all seem somewhat childish, but the reality is, even adults have dreams.  We give them more grown-up descriptions, such as, “goals,” or “visions.”  But all in all we still dream.  More often than not, we just don’t have the courage to share those dreams or the faith to pursue them.  Or perhaps we look at a dream failed when really it was the Lord redirecting.

I had a dream of a vocal career in Contemporary Christian music.  Obviously, I’m a neonatal nurse, so you might be inclined to think that I was way off the mark and that the dream was naïve.  But I have seen the Lord benefit my life today from my pursuit of that dream.  I spent a few years traveling around the state of Oklahoma singing with a group within Oklahoma Kids.  That time was undoubtedly the happiest of my childhood and it cultivated my stage presence and confidence.  I had an acceptance there that I couldn’t find at school.  The foundation during that season of my life led me to singing on my own in competition, in festivals, in churches, and even in my town’s pageant.  One thing leads to another, and I found myself in Nashville with my vocal coach at Embassy Music, and later in Estes Park, Colorado at the Christian Music Artists' Seminar.

Again, waste of time because I’m a nurse and not a professional vocalist?  Not at all.  Those experiences prepared me for something I would have never imagined.  Public speaking.  More than anything, I gained an invaluable characteristic through discovering my potential in vocal music; I gained a sense of confidence, and that is something we all need to pursue the dreams God stirs within our hearts.

I’m still dreaming today.  I have dreams for my kids; that they pursue an education, have a fulfilling career, experience the love of a devoted spouse and the miracle of healthy children.  I have dreams for my marriage; including continual professional growth, service in ministry, time to enjoy hobbies together, and maybe some sand and water too.  Doesn’t a beach just represent a peaceful side of dreams?  I have dreams for my career as a nurse, for more opportunities in speaking, and for the open door to formally write my story.

What will come of these dreams, these visions, these goals?  I don’t know.  But God does.  He placed the dream in my heart to have a husband that would look beyond the scars and desire me as if there were none.  Dream came true.  He placed a dream in my heart to be able to experience pregnancy, birth and the wonder of motherhood.  Dream came true.  He placed a dream in my heart of being able to physically minister to patients as a nurse.  Dream came true.

I don’t know what it will look like, or how it will happen or when it will transpire, but I do know that God’s plan has been far greater than any I could have ever imagined, and that what He has in store is consistent with what He has accomplished.  This is where faith is at work.  Hebrews 11:1 (NLT), “Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.”

We walk by faith, not by sight.  We don’t wait to see the evidence before we step out.  We believe, we work hard, we push on through failed attempts because we have faith in the One who holds the plan.

May we all be courageous to pursue what God has placed in our hearts to dream.

“Around here, however, we don’t look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things… and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.”- Walt Disney

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Out of Stock

Have you ever run out of something, put it on your grocery list, bought the item, only to find out that you had it in the pantry all along?  This happens in our house all too frequently.  Another instance goes like this: someone opens the fridge and makes a statement along the lines of, “We are out of barbeque sauce,” without even searching for it.  And it’s not the kids alone who neglect to search.  Just this week I concluded that I had used my last can of mousse.  I stretched my curly-do to the max, thinking that I didn’t have time to get to the store to buy more. It wasn’t until the end of the week when I opened the cabinet to grab another bottle of hand soap that I found a full can of mousse. I assume this happens to many of us.  But it happens in more areas than just our grocery lists and hair care items.  There are times life confronts us with situations that most often we are not prepared to face.  Sometimes our thoughts, or even our mouths utter words such as, “I can’t do this;” “I’m not strong enough to handle this;” “I’m not smart enough to figure this out.”

When I reflect back on the seasons of my life that produced significant spiritual growth, when I learned the most about my God and myself, it is those times that were the darkest and most despairing.  I remember back to a seven-year period of my adolescence battling depression and an eating disorder.  I remember back to a feeling of failure, the void and emptiness from miscarrying my second pregnancy.  I remember a period of uncertainty and financial instability experienced when Brandon was in engineering school and both of us were unemployed as a family of five.

In reflecting on moments like this with my friend and past OU instructor, Rhonda Lawes, she shared something she had heard that made quite an impression on me.  It was that everyone has a full plate, but different sizes; some people have saucers and some have turkey platters.  With that in mind, there are situations I can’t imagine walking in.  Cancer.  Bankruptcy.  Divorce. But the fact is, whatever we are facing, most often, we are not strong enough, smart enough, or equipped to handle it on our own.  And thank our loving Father that we don’t have to be, because HE is.  When we walk into our emotional pantry and the shelves are empty, we know where to find what we need.  He provides a fridge full of hope, a cabinet stocked with peace, a storeroom full of strength.  We have a supply that will never run out.

The Word reminds us of this truth,

II Corinthians 12:9-10 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8VoUYtx0kw

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In Need of Others

Did you ever read the book, “All I Really Need to Know I Learned In Kindergarten"?  Whether or not you read the book, maybe you can remember back to those kindergarten days.  I attended kindergarten in the afternoon, so I’d get to sleep in and lounge around in the mornings.  My Grandma made me pancakes every morning and then took me to school. I remember learning the “I’m a Little Tea Pot” song and thinking how funny it was to see Mrs. Matthews make a spout with her arm and sing, “when I get all steamed up hear me shout, ‘tip me over and pour me out!’”  I remember the letter of the week showing up at our door and thinking it was completely magical.  What actually happened was an older grade student would place the inflatable letter at the door, knock and run.  When one of my kindergarten classmates opened the door, there was our letter of the week! But perhaps my greatest memory in kindergarten was the self-realization that took place.  I discovered how much I loved people.  My parents thoroughly enjoyed telling the story about their first conference with my sweet teacher.  She informed them that in all her years of teaching, I believe it was around 30 at the time, she had never had a student move to all the tables in the first nine weeks of school.  Mrs. Matthews was trying to find a place for me to sit where I wouldn’t talk to anyone, but she soon discovered that I’d talk to whomever she set me beside.

These memories returned to my mind a couple of weeks ago while I was sitting around my kitchen table with some of my co-workers; John, Kersten, Bette and Stuart.  The afternoon had been spent with a small group of people who were strangers to me just a little over a year ago, but now felt like family.  Our little get together was more than just eating, swimming and enjoying a sunny afternoon together.  Our afternoon was about relationships and the value it gives to the lives that take time to build them.

This all leads me to wonder, “How does social media inhibit the potential of our relationships and friendships?”  Do we have a false sense of connection because we can conveniently post a comment or like a status?  When someone dies, is sufficient sympathy and comfort expressed online?  When one undergoes surgery, is love and support given through electronic communication?  Don’t get me wrong.  I utilize social media practically everyday, but I am mindful of letting it become the foundation for my friendships.

The most precious product we have to give is our time.  And I’m confident that those investments yield the greatest return.  How?  People change people.  Whether you are reaching out, or you’re being reached out to; it will change you.  Sending a card.  Making a meal. Meeting for coffee.  A call just to pray.  I realize the cost; the commitment of time, the awkwardness felt reaching outside our comfort zone, the risk of rejection.  But remember who it's for?  The time, the awkwardness, the risk?  It's for others.  For a creation God loves so very much.  People.

I pray we are provoked to make a positive evaluation and challenge to the relationships we hold so dearly in our lives.  May we consider the lives of those around us.  May we have purpose and intention in every life we touch, and acknowledgement and thankfulness for those who touch ours. 

Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 ~ NIV Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.  But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.  A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

“You may never have proof of your importance but you are more important than you think. There are always those who couldn’t do without you. The rub is that you don’t always know who.” ― Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

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A Hurricane Hit

A catastrophic storm hit eight years ago today.  Complete devastation came upon the Gulf Coast as Hurricane Katrina made landfall.  Many remember August 29, 2005 because of the violent natural event that affected many cities, especially New Orleans. I remember that morning very well.  I was back in the burn center recovering from my sixth surgery within the previous five months.  My mom was staying with Brooklyn and Jaron, and we were on the phone visiting about the kids.  Mom told me I needed to turn on the news and see the coverage on this hurricane.   We concluded our visit and hung up.

Brandon was there with me and left the room somewhat abruptly.  He returned with our Pastor behind him.  I was slightly puzzled that our Pastor was with Brandon, because he had just been to visit and pray with us.  I quickly concluded in my mind that my Grandma Cochrane, my Dad’s mom, must have just passed away.  She had had a stroke the week before.  It seemed obvious that there was loss.

Brandon came to the right side of my hospital bed, Pastor Gary to my left.  I felt a hurricane hit my own heart when my precious husband informed me that my Dad died.  Floods of tears and complete disbelief.  My Dad was two weeks away from getting a pacemaker.  He physically appeared to be in better condition than he had previously.  But none of that mattered, because the fact is, he sat in that chair, at my own desk, in our office, speaking on the phone to a client who was also a dear friend from our church, and his heart stopped.  His life ended.  He was gone.

Gone was his boisterous personality.  Gone were his jokes.  Gone were his stories and his laughter.  His laugh alone would bring such joy to those around him.  And I cry today just thinking that its sound is fading in my memory.  No longer could I consult with him over investments, no longer could I pick his mind regarding finances.  He wasn’t just a phone call or desk away when business questions arose.  I’d never lift my eyes up to his tall stature again.  No longer would I wrap arms around his neck or kiss his face.  No more getting smoked playing cards or Monopoly.  No more long dinner conversations or prayers for our future.  My Dad was gone.

Moving on was so painful.  After Dad’s memorial service on Friday, Mom and I were back in the office the following Tuesday.  We had a company to maintain.  I found myself going about life, looking at other people driving on the road, buying their groceries, filling up their gas tanks, and wondering how they couldn’t feel that someone so special was no longer here on this earth; how they didn’t even realize the void.  Nothing even looked the same to me.  My perspective had changed.  And my identity was challenged.  Someone who had always been here, forever and ever, someone who made me and raised me and loved me, was dead.  I felt so alone.

And alone is just another description for grief.  Grief feels so lonely and so desperate.  It physically hurts to grieve.  It is that pit in the stomach that makes us literally feel nauseous.  When we cry and cry, our eyes are swollen, our nose is raw, and we seem to only pause in between, until the flood of sorrow rains again.

In this time the Lord comforted my heart with two gifts of peace.

One; my Pastor.  Even today in the sadness that accompanies my reflection on losing my Dad, I remember my Pastor sitting there at my hospital bed and all he said was, “Jesus.”  Over and over and over again he whispered the Name of Jesus.  When there were no words, there was His Name, Jesus.  Isaiah 9:6 tells us His Name is, “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

Two; the Word.  Shortly afterwards, I had friends and loved ones encouraging me to read James.  “Dig into a study on James, Heather.”  But the Lord led me to Job.

Job 1:1 tells us that Job was a great guy, he “was blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil.” Job 1:8 the Lord brags on Job, telling satan, “Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one on earth like him; he is blameless and upright, a man who fears God and shuns evil.” As you read in Job 1:9-10 you will see that satan suggests that Job’s faithfulness is only out of the blessing God has bestowed on him, and satan proposes that when calamity strikes Job that Job will curse God.  Job 1:12 God allows satan to have control over everything Job has, except “the man himself.”

Read Job 1:13-19 and take note of the phrases I have put in bold.

“13 One day when Job’s sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house, 14 a messenger came to Job and said, “The oxen were plowing and the donkeys were grazing nearby, 15 and the Sabeans attacked and made off with them. They put the servants to the sword, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”16 While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said, “The fire of God fell from the heavens and burned up the sheep and the servants, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”17 While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said, “The Chaldeans formed three raiding parties and swept down on your camels and made off with them. They put the servants to the sword, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”18 While he was still speaking, yet another messenger came and said, “Your sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house, 19 when suddenly a mighty wind swept in from the desert and struck the four corners of the house. It collapsed on them and they are dead, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”

Can you imagine???  Job can’t even process one bit of tragic information over the messengers interrupting each other to give him more!

But how does Job respond? Verse 20 tells us by falling to the ground in worship.  In verse 21 Job says, ““Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart.  The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.”

This passage challenged me in my time of grief.  And my Pastor’s presence to whisper the sweet Name of Jesus brought peace.  Altogether, COMFORT.

Despite the disaster, He is there and He loves you.  He is enough, even when so much seems gone.

“If everything I had was lost

If everything I had was gone

If everything I knew was suddenly a fraud

And all I had was you holding on

Would it all be the same?

Could I find beauty in the pain?

Would I sing your praise?

Would I seek your face?

I raise my voice loud and sing

Tell them all what you’ve done for me

Even in my darkest days

I’m gonna sing your praise.”

Lyrics from Raise My Voice ~ Robbie Seay Band

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Small People with Great Expectations

In a small town, there is a small school, with small students who are establishing GREAT EXPECTATIONS. Early in the school year, a teacher and her students illustrate a character. The teacher has her students take turns using their creativity to draw specific features. It’s a fun activity as they may draw spaghetti for the hair, or buttons for the eyes and so on, in regards to facial features and limbs. The students decide a gender for this character and then give a name. When all is said and done, their teacher asks her students if this created individual would be welcomed into their classroom.

This classroom activity is conducted by my dear friend, Michele Lee, who invited me to begin sharing my story with her second grade students, nearly ten years ago, in connection with the Great Expectations program. In such time, her team of fellow teachers valued my story in such a way, that I have had the privilege of sharing it with the entire second grade class at Central Elementary for the last several years.

The presentation varies minimally year to year. I have used a clip from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast and asked the students why Belle loved the Beast and not Gaston. Those little second graders don’t hesitate in answering that the Beast is nice and Gaston is mean. It emphasizes the value of our heart over our appearance. Another illustration utilized is the book, The Rough-Face Girl by Rafe Martin. The students hear how the scarred girl endures the comments from her cruel sisters, but in the end, the Invisible Being’s sister sees that, “though her skin was scarred, her hair burnt, her clothes strange, she had a beautiful, kind heart.” But my favorite book to use is Little Quack’s New Friend by Laura Thompson. This book portrays a cute group of five little ducklings and a green frog that is obviously different from the rest. Four ducklings state their reasoning for not wanting to play with the frog, but Little Quack chooses to play with the frog regardless. In the end, they are all playing together and happy about their new friend.

Each year, I share the details of Jon and my motorcycle accident. I share pictures of Jon and me, so they will know him, as this is his story too. I show a picture of me in the first grade, before the accident. I show them pictures of me standing up for the first time after the accident, having physical therapy and what I looked like when I returned to school in the second grade. And there lies the connection. I was the same age when I returned to school as the audience of students to which I speak. However, I returned to a school that didn’t benefit from a Great Expectations program. I felt a bit like that frog from the little children's book.  Therefore, my emphasis in speaking to these students is on Expectation #1, “We will value one another as unique and special individuals,” and Expectation #2 “We will not laugh at or make fun of a person's mistakes nor use sarcasm or putdowns.”

Even today, I see examples that cause me to think, “We could all benefit from reciting the Eight Expectations like those young students.” We know that school is so much more than intellectual development; it encompasses social and moral development as well. But it doesn’t stop at elementary school, or junior high, or high school. It continues on everyday that we live and work with those around us.

It’s for reasons like this that I have great admiration for the great teachers who set such great expectations; truly making a difference!

Romans 12:10 Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight in honoring each other. (NLT)

~~~August 21, 2013 at Central Elementary~~~

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Let My Lifesong Sing

I took an unintended sabbatical from writing here.  Life is precious and time is limited.  Everyday decisions are made what to do with the allotted time we have in a day, and the numbered days we have in this life. A consistent prayer I have is, “Lord, please make it matter.  Make what I do, with this life You’ve given me, matter to more than just me.”  It’s my prayer as I sit down to write every post and it’s a prayer that is the reason I’ve been unable to write one for some time now.

The Lord presented an opportunity to me that required I take five days away from my family.  As we all know, heading out for a few days requires a lot of pre-planning and arranging; not to mention the tear-at-your-heart comments like, “Do you really have to go?” and “I want to go with you.”  Sometimes what the Lord calls us to do requires something that many don’t want to give….sacrifice.

For me it was a sacrifice of time, a sacrifice of emotion, and a sacrifice of comfort.  The time away meant putting other responsibilities on the back burner, thus costing more time upon arriving back home.  The whole trip I missed my husband and kids immensely; which was a bizarre thing that a grown woman could feel so homesick; coupled with the insignificant, but obvious discomforts of being away from home.

But what a loss it would be if we only weighed the sacrifice and ended up missing the blessing!

The Oklahoma Firefighter’s Burn Camp was started back in 1999.  I learned of this camp when I was back in the burn center for some more rounds of releases and skin grafts in the summer of 2005.  This was something I desired getting involved in, but was unable to do so until now.

My participation in this year’s burn camp was an experience I didn’t imagine or anticipate.  I arrived to learn that my camper would be a 4 year-old little girl; close to turning five.  I didn’t even know kids could attend camp that young, or that my little camper would handle being away from her mama for five days.  One thing I did quickly learn is that this little girl just so happened to have sustained her injury during the brief four month period that I externed in the burn center almost two years ago. So I actually got to take care of her a bit.  It was a special connection right from the start.

Mady was my little camper.  I spent time away from my children and filled in as a mom for Mady, to experience a camp that was deeply meaningful for both camper and counselor; both burn survivors.  I tended to Mady’s little needs and watched as she was able to relish in the attention and love of those around her; from those older campers, counselors and staff.  I observed the beginnings of new relationships; ones that I fondly imagine will stay with Mady throughout her entire life, and serve as a source of strength in the days that can be so very difficult.

These observations had me constantly thinking, “I wish they had had something like this when I was growing up.”  People bond through similar experiences, and I believe more so for kids.  Even as an adult, there was security and comfort like I had never experienced.  For example, going to the pool in my swimsuit and everyone having scars just like me; not being the “different” one.

I was overwhelmed to see the amount of time and financial contributions made to make this camp possible for the kids.  It stirs quite the emotion to think those who make this camp happen have most likely never encountered firsthand the physical and emotional pain, the anger, the regret, the confusion, and all the other boat load of emotions that burn survivors have; especially kids who don’t have the coping skills or psychological development to process these things.  The individual and corporate contributors allow themselves to try to imagine the unfair reality that these young people have encountered, and they give to make life grand for them, even if it’s just for those five days.

In an interview a couple of years ago I expressed how life after a burn injury is never the same, but that it can still be good.  Unfortunately, that comment was edited, so the full thought didn’t come across as I had intended.  Nevertheless, it’s a truth I’ve come to realize.  My life would be much different had that tragic accident never occurred.  If we just hadn’t decided to get out on the road, it would have never happened.  My brother would be alive.  I would not have scars covering my body.  I would not have experienced the horrendous pain.  I would not have had the challenge to learn to walk again.  I would not have reoccurring skin tears.  I would not have had the complications and risks during my pregnancies with my children.

One decision could have prevented it all. It’s obvious what I lost.  And yet….and yet I gained so very much.  I gained the realization of the courage and determination within me.  I gained the importance of character over attractiveness.  I gained the security of a husband’s genuine love over men’s fleeting flattery.   I gained an entire family of healthcare providers rather than impersonal doctors and nurses.  Above all, I gained an opportunity to literally see the hand of God at work in my life.  I gained a story that I feel makes the scars beautiful.

And that is burn camp; overcomers, coming together, with a beautiful story, from the scars we carry.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tdRgfyswGaQ

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Happy NICU Anniversary

It's hard to believe today marks my first anniversary since starting this amazing career as a neonatal intensive care unit nurse.  I don't know where the year has gone, but in all honesty, I'm glad it's over.  I look back and see the growth, and I anticipate much more in a now more peaceful, settled frame of mind.  In honor of the ups and downs nurses experience during their first year, I'd like to share something I wrote back in November of 2012.  I pray it blesses the newbies, wherever you may be..... Sometimes being new is so hard.

When we think of “brand new” we imagine something fresh, something unblemished; we picture stamina and beauty.  Just think of how wonderful it is to get a new car or a new house.  But sometimes “new” isn’t so wonderful.  Sometimes it is very challenging.

I see this illustrated every time I go to work.  I see babies that are brand new having difficulty.  They may have respiratory challenges, gastrointestinal complications, or cardiac insufficiencies.  These situations are not what mothers prepare themselves for when they find out that they are growing their precious little miracles.  Mothers and fathers picture a brand new baby with ten little fingers and ten tiny toes.  They decorate nurseries, have baby showers, pick out clothes and car seats.  They don’t imagine days, weeks or even months in an intensive care nursery.

I think of this often as I encounter experiences as a new nurse.  It was all so very exciting at graduation, and then of course, after passing NCLEX.  But now is the time that the celebrations are over and I’m confronted with the challenges of not just being a new nurse, but being a new employee, trying to connect with a group of people that are already connected.

Life experience has taught me that the Lord will bless this endeavor of mine as I continue to use it for Him.  I remember back to when I was twelve years old and sang publicly for the first time.  I was absolutely terrified, but my desire to sing was greater than my fear, so I pushed through each time until one day, I didn’t feel that way anymore.  The same feelings accompanied me as I prepared for my first speaking engagement.  I felt so unequipped; so short on knowledge; so empty of substance.  But God met me where I was.  He took my desire to be used for Him and He blessed each offering I had to give.

As I drive to work with feelings of inadequacy and apprehension, I remind myself that I’ve been here before.  I remind myself that my confidence is in the Lord and that He called me to be a nurse, so He has equipped me to succeed.  Everything takes time.  Yes, I may have butterflies in my stomach from time to time, I do even today when I sing or speak, but that urge to vomit will surely pass!

Yes, being new can be so hard, but so rewarding.  We discover new things about ourselves and our walk with God.  We stretch ourselves beyond our comforts of convenience and familiarity.  We become reliant, not on our own abilities and talents, but on the One who entrusted them to us.

Jeremiah 17:7 “But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him.”

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Rising Waters

A situation that occurred recently had my husband and me sitting on our back patio in tears.  Brandon looked at me and said, “Why is the enemy attacking our family?”  We seek the Lord to have His hand upon our lives; upon our children; upon our home.  We are intentional to teach and follow His ways.  The instruction in Deuteronomy 6:5-9 has been a life application, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.” In our flesh, we can’t help but ask “why?”  When the core integrity of our home is threatened, it’s difficult to not ask “why?”  Or question ourselves.  What have we not done?  What have we missed?  When we mistakenly feel that situations are within our control, we feel like failures.  But God has given us wisdom to know that that is exactly the way the enemy wants us to think and feel.

We believe I Peter 5:8, “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.”  I know the potential our family holds for the Kingdom of God is a threat to the enemy.  I know attacks come where we least expect it and literally knock our feet out from under us, as did recently.

In these times, we rely on that solid, unwavering foundation.  We cling to what we know.  We don’t cower in defeat, resorting to staying under the enemy’s radar, so to speak.  No, we boldly stand with confidence that God is in control.  And He knows exactly what need, exactly when we need it.  I melted in God’s presence Sunday morning as our worship team led us in the song, “Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)” by Hillsong.  Phrases like, “in oceans deep, my faith will stand;” “Your grace abounds in deepest waters, Your sovereign hand will be my guide;” “I will call upon Your name and keep my eyes above the waves.” But the one that has taken me to my knees was, “Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders…”

My husband and I acknowledge the deep waters.  And it is here, in this place, where there is no limit to our trust in our Almighty God.  Whether circumstances are within or outside of our control, we trust God.   We pray for healing.  We pray for forgiveness.  We pray for complete restoration.  We pray and we trust.  Where we are weak, He is strong.  In this great unknown, He is here.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dy9nwe9_xzw]

Joy for Mourning

We had a celebration on Saturday. Our youngest child, Gavin turned four. Friends and family came to his pirate party and enjoyed a time of swimming, snacking, games, gifts and laughter. It was a fun day. When birthdays roll around in our home we spend some time reflecting on the actual birth day. Even on my own, my Mom will reminisce back at specific times of the day which mark moments of my birth.  The time the nurse walked in and mentioned the big family who were having a party in the waiting room with donuts and coffee, and you guessed it, that family was ours; the time they wheeled her back to the operating room for her scheduled C-section, the time they woke her up and told her she had a baby girl. My Mom just beams when she speaks of the day of her child’s birth.

As joyous as Gavin has made our lives, unfortunately, his delivery was anything but. At 35 weeks gestation, I began having stroke like symptoms. I described these in my post, A Meaningful March. July 11th 2009, we were on our way to Oklahoma City for my best friend, Amber’s bridal shower. This woman has been my friend for 20 years. She was my maid of honor, and I was serving as her matron of honor. And considering that, I felt terrible that I didn’t want to go. I just didn’t feel good, but was ignoring it in order to be there as I should for my dear friend.

As the story goes, we didn’t make it to Oklahoma City. My husband took me to the hospital despite my protest. Upon arrival, the labor and delivery nurse instructed me to put on a hospital gown and leave a urine specimen in the restroom. I did the latter, but had every intention of going home to allow my baby more time to grow; therefore, the hospital gown stayed neatly folded at the foot of the bed. The perinatologist who saw me and delivered all of my children, came in and explained his plan to induce labor, and deliver our baby. I begged him to try something else which would allow little Gavin more time. My doctor delicately informed me that if he allowed me to even get up to use the restroom that I could seize and risk my baby’s death and my own death. I knew that despite every intention I had to prevent another one of my babies from going to the NICU that that is exactly what was going to happen.

Lying there that night, with my Pitocin and magnesium running, tears ran continuously. I looked at the clock the entire night, and I prayed and prayed. What I requested of the Lord was what I needed most. Peace. I asked Him to give me peace when the NICU team took my baby. I asked Him to prepare me for the situation and the emotion I would experience. I knew what lie ahead. It was something I never imagined when we went through it the first time, five and a half years earlier with our second child, Jaron. I simply wanted to feel okay with the unnatural, but necessary process of my baby being whisked away.

Is anyone surprised to know that God did indeed answer my prayer? Approximately thirty five hours after arriving to the hospital and a sufficiently difficult delivery, my Gavin made his entrance into the world. At 6:32 a.m. Monday, July 13th 2009. He was a scrawny little 5 pound 4 ounce, 19.5 inch long baby. And I was completely at peace as he headed to the NICU. Due to being on magnesium, I didn’t see him until about twelve hours later, but I had supernatural peace through it all.

What makes this story so incredibly special for me is, obviously, the fact that it’s about the day one of my little miracles came into the world, but that it’s also about God using one of our most difficult times to give me a personal passion for the care our family benefited from, twice. Our two NICU experiences were a night and day difference. The attitude and climate had changed drastically between our first visit with Jaron and our second with Gavin. I knew when Gavin was born that God’s plan was for me to become a nurse. The Lord began stirring that in my heart two months after Jaron was born. But I had no idea that the NICU would be where I was to minister. Not until our experience with Gavin. A seed was planted in that time that had me prayerfully explore the possibilities of becoming a neonatal nurse.

I marvel at the awesomeness of God. For how mighty and powerful He is. For how holy and righteous. How magnificent. And in all His majesty, He speaks and moves, and uses us in our humanity to accomplish His plan. My joy is infused from the fact that my Heavenly Father used one of our saddest moments to get us to where we are today. The fulfillment and sense of purpose today came out of a time of helplessness and sense of failure. It is so true, He makes all things good!

Isaiah 61:3 “and provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of His splendor.” (NIV)

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Let Your Little Light Shine

My Grandma passed away one year ago today at the age of 90.  She lived the last several years of her life with the effects of Alzheimer’s.  Because of her confusion, and need for twenty-four hour care, she went into a nursing home in the Fall of 2009.  From the time she entered the nursing home, I began to pray that the Lord would take her home, to eternity. You see, I grew up right next door to my Grandma.  Some of the nights I stayed with her we’d sleep at the foot of the bed with an open window allowing the breeze to blow in our face.  She made me pancakes every morning for a year; one of the reasons why I’m not a big pancake fan today.  I had my fill early in life.  She allowed me to drive down our dirt roads when I was about ten.  And she taught me how to make homemade applesauce.  I could write a book alone about all the times I had with my Grandma.  For all these memories, I am overwhelmingly grateful.  But one of the tragic things about Alzheimer’s is that you experience multiple losses.  You are constantly observing the mental and physical decline.  You lose your loved one, as you knew them, little by little until their death.  And no matter how much you wanted them to be free from the disease, the permanent loss of their death is difficult.

I would have never chosen for my Grandma to live the last three years of her life in a nursing home.  But God had a plan for my Grandma.  In addition to my Grandma’s memorial service, we had a separate service at the nursing home for her.  The chaplain from Grace Hospice focused on Jeremiah 29:11, “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”  He pointed out that this verse holds much excitement and encouragement for high school graduates who have their entire lives ahead of them, but what about those at the end of their life?

I had the gift of watching the Lord use my Grandma.  Despite her confusion and decline, her light shined brightly for Him.  Grandma became very close to a 34 years young resident battling multiple sclerosis.  This young woman claims Buddhism as her faith.  Nevertheless, she entered my Grandma’s room and, at Grandma’s request, the woman read the Bible to her.  And she did it several times a week.  My family believes Isaiah 55:11, “so is My Word that goes out from My mouth: It will not return to Me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”  This sweet young woman read to my Grandma, and my Grandma displayed Christian love in a nonjudgmental manner; no condemnation, no accusations; just love.

God had a special plan for my Grandma.  We know He has a plan for all of us.  But sometimes the laundry, the grocery shopping, the cleaning and mowing, the runny noses and crazy sport schedules, the bills and fender benders along the way, get us so distracted from the fact that GOD HAS A PLAN!  And what’s better is that it is as unique as we are.

In his book In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day, Mark Batterson writes, “Lion chasers don’t let what they can’t do keep them from doing what they can.”  My Grandma could not even get up to go to the restroom, but she didn’t let that stop her from allowing God to use her.  It’s not about what WE can do anyway; it’s about what HE can do through us.  If God has given us the breath to breathe then He most certainly has given us the opportunity to be used for Him.  Matthew 5:14-15 says, “You are the light of the world.   A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”

Let’s not let our circumstances predict how bright our light shines.  Whether we are mistreated, unappreciated or misjudged our light can shine because after all, He’s got a plan, and it’s an amazing one!

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Bottled Tears

“There are worse things in life than death.”  That is a statement I have heard my Mom make many times.  I didn’t really understand the significance of her words as I recall the first encounters of her making them.  But through the years, I knew what she meant and I knew that those words were her sense of peace. My Mom showed up to the scene of my brother and my accident over 25 years ago now.  Her senses received the reality of immense tragedy.  Smoke.  Fire.  Wreckage.  And amidst it all lay her little boy’s dead body.  There was nothing within her power to change what took place there.  Nothing she could do would bring him back.

How does one process an incredible loss?  How does one begin to cope?  I know that my Mom’s walk with God carried her through that unimaginable pain and grief.  I also know that she was at peace knowing my brother was at peace.  In a time that no one could have ever anticipated or prepared for, it helped to look for the goodness, even when it seemed there was none.  That goodness was that my brother Jon did not suffer in his death.  Jon’s days were full. He had a life of quality, despite such short duration.

I find myself confronted with this scenario in my career as a neonatal nurse.  I have observed such unfair realities of mommies and daddies faced with losing their baby.  My heart breaks, between my sympathy for the family and my compassion for the baby.  There are times their little bodies are put through so much, with every effort to save their life.  Where is the line between saving a life and a peaceful passing?

An article featured in Advances in Neonatal Care, titled “What Neonatal Intensive Care Nurses Need to Know About Neonatal Palliative Care,” explores this ethical issue. “Advocating For a Dying Baby, Assessing and Managing Pain in a Dying Baby, and Helping Parents Say ‘Goodbye,’” are just a few of the twenty-three items identified as providing good palliative care in neonatal nursing. But what left an impression on me was that although 40% of graduating neonatology fellows “felt well-equipped to discuss predictions of morbidity and mortality and treatment options, they felt less well trained to address the more emotional and social issues related to palliative care, such as discussing families’ spiritual and religious needs.”

When there is nothing within our power to change the circumstance, what need is higher than those emotional and spiritual? There is no black and white.  But there is prayer.  And I pray over each of the babies I care for.  A recent assignment had me specifically praying for quality.  It’s a prayer fueled from those words spoken by my own Mom; my Mom who knew that there was a God greater than her grief.  He held her as He does her son, as He does the babies and their precious parents who say goodbye.

Psalm 56:8 (NLT) “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.”

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Thank You

High school football games were quite the event every Friday night in our hometown.  My high school didn’t reach 5A until my senior year.  But even before that, we had a pretty snazzy 4A team.  I remember back to my sophomore year in high school.  My parents and I went to every single game.  We weren’t going for anyone in particular; no relatives on the team or anything.  We were simply a part of the community and it was a way to show our support and involvement. As much fun as we had, I’ll never forget something that use to spark a bit of irritation in me.  It was when the game would get down to the wire so to speak.  We’d either need a field goal, or some game saving play.  One of the players would start waving his arms to get the crowd to cheer.  I wanted to say, “Hey, that’s the cheerleaders’ job!”    Nevertheless, we’d all, already standing to our feet start to scream even louder declaring our praise and reassurance.

It’s the same kind of feeling I get when I watch award shows and the recipient makes the comment, “I’d like to thank my fans.”  It just sounds so boisterous and somewhat conceited.  It’s for that very reason that I’ve never really liked the “follow” link on this blog. Who wants to be a follower anyway?  Didn’t we all get the message about being independent and having leadership qualities?

Regardless of the lingo, we know that these are all ways for us to express our support, to give our approval, to provide our encouragement.  It’s a way for us to state: “I believe in what you’re doing;” “I agree with what you say;” “I want you to keep going.”  These are the blessings that I have received from you, my precious readers and commenters.

I could have never anticipated what God had in store for this blog.  It was and is a daily step of obedience to open my life and share with you all.  This is vulnerability and humility like I’ve never known.  It’s so easy to put our confident and sometimes, even prideful faces on for the world.  It’s another thing to strip it away and share those hidden insecurities and inadequacies, those most heartfelt thoughts, deepest prayers and magnificent visions.

The words posted and messaged to me since Heather’s Blessed JouRNey, got up and running six months ago are treasures.  Like the one from Michelle, who went to school with my brother Jon.  She commented on 25 Years Later.

I still remember seeing the smoke from my house that day… I think of Jon often and remember what a special friend he was to me. Even though I was only 8 I remember that he would never let anyone go without a treat on bake sale day. I remember asking him if he was really sure if he had enough money to be buying everyone treats. He just smiled and said, “of course I I do.” He lifted everyone around him up. If I was having trouble with school work or just having a bad day he would give me that smile of his and make my day brighter. You are so much like him: warm, kind, and gentle. Jon was so willing to love people just like you!! Love, Michelle

Or the one recently, from Kim, a friend from high school.

Heather, I'm sure you get this from everyone that follows your blog...but I have to tell you how much I love reading them! You never fail to either give me chills or make me cry. You touch my heart every time. I want to tell you what an amazing woman you are and how you are such an inspiration. You have gone through so much in your life, and still you appear to be one of the happiest people I know. You have such a heart of gold. On the other hand, I must tell you what a freak of nature you are! I'm putting you up there in the rare category with Erika Cheatham...you two are the only two that just keep getting prettier the older you get! How do you do that?! It's not fair! Lol! ;) Anyway, it was weighing on my heart to let you know what a beautiful person you are inside and out. You can't say that about many people but I feel you are a genuine woman. I'm honored to call you my friend. And those lil nicu babies are lucky they have you to care for them :) xoxo

I share these to show that when we follow God’s will, even if we’re concerned that people will think we’re crazy, even if we’re inhibited to share those things we keep hidden; that our blessing will be far greater than our sacrifice.

How could I not return to give my very simple offerings?

John 15:5 (NIV) says, “Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing.

I am absolutely nothing without Jesus.  My efforts writing here are in vain without Him.  My work as a nurse is futile without His anointing.  My role as a mother is ineffective without His guidance.  My commitment to my husband is empty without His love. He is everything and He makes something of anything I give to Him, as evidence by your gracious support of my humble contributions.

Thank you! Thank you, for reading so faithfully.  Thank you, for sharing with your family and your friends.  Thank you, for taking a moment to post those invaluable comments.  Thank you, for giving back to my life, more than what I’m sure I could have ever given to yours.

Bless you, readers!

Because of your support, I've had the privilege to share with....

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God's Unpredictable Plans

This past Wednesday appeared to be another run-of-the-mill kind of day.  The alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. and my hubby and I proceeded with our work day routine.  We headed out the door, in different directions, to jobs we love and feel blessed to have. But the day wasn’t another ordinary day.  It was a significant day in our lives, for it was the one on which we wed fourteen years ago.  However, it was the first one we celebrated having completed goals we set so very long ago. My husband and I met in August of 1996, we began dating in the winter of 1997, we got engaged in the fall of 1998 and we married in June of 1999.  We were so very young, but couldn’t have been more certain that God intended for us to spend the rest of our lives together.  We had such beautiful dreams, such important goals, such high expectations, and such great desires to accomplish it all together.  Being a person who values tradition and respects order, I wanted to see us go to college and graduate before we got married.  Nevertheless, we bucked tradition and proceeded with what we knew was God’s timing for our life.

Our decision to marry at eighteen years-old was met with an understandably large amount of resistance.  Our parents were anything but excited.  They were deeply cautious and sufficiently objectionable on our behalf.  They completely had our best interest at heart.  They wanted the best for our lives and typically that involves postponing such an event to a more appropriate and socially acceptable age. We knew it would be easier to wait.  But we knew the path God was leading us would have far greater reward than the easy street.  And come to find out, it did and it does.

I spent most of my growing up questioning if anyone would want me.  I grew up wondering if I’d ever be able to have children.  There was nothing I wanted more than a family, and the Lord didn’t let me wait.  My emotional agony had lasted long enough.  God gave peace to my spirit when Brandon requested I marry him.  And I found my greatest confidence in becoming a Mom to Brooklyn, Jaron, Caden and Gavin.  There’s no accomplishment that compares to the one I have in being their Mom.

And there I was at work on Wednesday afternoon, June 19^th 2013, taking my lunch break, to eat a quick meal with my husband.  We celebrated our fourteenth anniversary in the waiting room on the fifth floor of the Children’s Hospital at Saint Francis.  And believe it or not, it couldn’t have been more ideal.  God brought this amazing man into my life, blessed us with four miracles, and He used those experiences to call me to do the work I was doing that very afternoon as a nurse in the NICU.

There are times our life may not follow custom.  It may not get the approval and support from those we love and respect.    We may be faced with sacrifice, with unpleasant conversations, with uncomfortable moments.  But if God plants a vision in our heart, if God calls us to do the unpopular or the difficult, then He will give us the courage and determination to follow His will.  It is He and He alone.  And when we live a life to please Him, He irons out the rest.

We’re living our “happily ever after” with a very supportive family, because we dared to follow God’s plan.

The Lord says, “I will guide you along the best pathway for your life. I will advise you and watch over you. Psalm 32:8 (NLT)

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