The Cold Came

Every year, around this time, I have a visitor.  This visitor brings some nasal congestion and a sore throat.  No biggie.  I was on my game and started with my Alka-Seltzer Plus Cold and Cough when I encountered the first sign of symptoms upon awakening for work this past Sunday morning.  Over the next few days I experienced additional symptoms, sneezing, runny nose and coughing.  Now, four days later I have the predictable outcome of the common cold, laryngitis. Although I detest the effects of having a respiratory virus, I’m grateful that it’s come on my once a month, eight-day stretch off.  What causes healthy adults and children to feel cruddy, can be devastating to infants who already have respiratory insufficiencies.  Which is what I hope is at the forefront of every visitor’s mind before coming to see a baby in the NICU.  And it’s the bulldog NICU nurse that screens those visitors to protect the tiny patients.  It’s called advocacy.  And it’s what my children brought to mind this evening.

My children?  Yes.  You see my children were my voice today.  Without even being asked, they began to relay the messages I was straining to communicate.  I couldn’t get above a whisper to ask Caden to put his shoes up.  Jaron did.  I couldn’t notify Brooklyn to come down to dinner.  Caden did.  I couldn’t holler for the dogs to come in.  Brooklyn did.  And even Gavin, offered to take my assigned night, to pray over dinner.  Yes, we have assigned days to pray over meals.  We had to resort to that several years ago because my children were so eager to ask the blessing.  I’d like to think it was due to their deep desire to connect with their Creator, but I’m not convinced that was the case.  Nevertheless, we assigned days to deter from who’s turn it was, and tonight was Mama’s night to pray, but Mama couldn’t speak.

My kids aren’t the only ones in my life who use their voice when there is none.  I grew up with a mother who did and does the same.  It’s evident that my Mom has a sensitivity to animals, babies and the elderly.  I’ve heard her say countless times that she can handle people being ugly, as long it’s directed to someone who can stand up for themselves.  But those identified can’t.  It’s why she gets involved when she observes such injustices.  My Mom isn’t a nurse, but she displays the greatest characteristic of a nurse.  Advocating for others. She won’t back down for what she knows is right; a noble characteristic of the nurse who advocates for their patient.

Nurses speak for patients.  They provide for the needs of those who can’t care for themselves.  They don’t simply clock in and clock out.  They assess, diagnose, plan, implement and evaluate for the entire twelve-hours or longer.  It takes backbone.  It takes heart. It takes endurance. And it’s the greatest job in the world.

Proverbs 31:8-9 (NLT)  Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves; ensure justice for those being crushed. Yes, speak up for the poor and helpless, and see that they get justice.

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A Really Weird Dream

A few nights ago I had a disturbing and very strange dream.  In my dream, I was getting ready to go somewhere.  The surroundings I recall are unfamiliar to me, so I know I wasn’t at home.  While getting ready, someone ran in to tell me there was a huge bug in the other room.  I assured I’d get it.  I quickly finished what I was doing and put on a pair of cute tall-heeled black boots to complete my outfit.  (The boots were familiar to me, as they were the ones my sweet hubby gave me for Christmas.) I walked into the other room thinking I’d take care of the bug.  (This is where the dream turns into some weird oldies sci-fi theme movie.)  But the bug was massive.   It was somewhat resemblance of a cricket.  It was black, standing upright and had huge tentacles.  I assessed the situation to be dangerous and concluded that there was no way I could fight that bug in the heels I was wearing.  I determined I was inadequately dressed to overcome the bug without risking injury to myself.  Someone else stepped up to the task and that’s where my dream ended.

Weird, huh?  Well, I didn’t exactly dismiss the dream as you might assume.  Throughout getting ready for work and driving in, I had this disappointed feeling in myself.  I wondered why I didn’t dream that I saved the day.  I wondered why I was such a coward.  I wondered why I backed down and allowed someone else to do what I said I was going to do.  I shared my dream and my thoughts with my husband and he asked, “So, what’s your bug?”

Hmm.  What is my bug?  Maybe it was that I had recently had one of my own patient’s code, and that I wasn’t as proactive and take-charge as I imagined I’d be.  Instead it felt like a fog, like everything was moving really slowly, as if in a dream.  My little patient was stabilized within minutes, but it seemed like hours.  The moment has replayed in my mind repeatedly.  While I know no super nurse runs a code alone, nor alone, saves the day, I still felt disappointed in myself.  Despite mock codes, the real deal had me feeling like I wasn’t adequately prepared.  Maybe that’s the bug from my dream.

Or maybe it’s this blog.  My presence here has been a source of some very personal and hurtful attacks.  It conjures up thoughts, like: “It’s not worth it.”  “I don’t really have anything special or unique to offer.”  “What, if any, difference am I making?”  I mean, don’t people follow blogs to get recipes and craft ideas, or political views and scholarly opinions?  I don’t have anything to contribute in those categories.  Even though I continue to grow from my investments here and learn from fellow bloggers, I again, still confront inadequacy, so maybe that’s the bug from my dream.

In my dream, I found the bug to be quite scary.  So, if either of these instances are symbolic of my bug, why would I willingly continue to put myself in situations that are sometimes scary?  The answer is for the same reason why any of us do what we do; it is to make a difference.  I have no idea if anything I have to offer in my work, in my writings or in my speaking is worth merit, but God does.  And I know that He can’t use what I won’t give Him, but He can use what I do.  I’ll never know if I don’t offer it.  And these are what I give to Him.  I continue to walk in obedience and trust that despite my shortcomings, despite my fear and despite my inadequacies, HE makes the difference.

There are so many unknowns.  And for someone who always likes to have a plan, the unknowns can be scary.  But it can also be exciting.  Each day ahead holds possibility.  Therefore, let us have an excitement over the wonder and possibility God has in store for our lives.  Each of us are unfinished; allow Him to direct the ending.  The best part is coming!

Proverbs 16:3 (NLT)~ Commit your actions to the Lord, and your plans will succeed.

Excited about the upcoming movie in which Celine sings this theme song, Unfinished Songs, written by the talented Diane Warren

So you're thinking it's ending But it's only just begun Your whole life is there right Right in front of you Life's a story that is all twists and turns All that matters is the lessons we learn

'Cause we're all unfinished songs Waiting for the best part to come along Hey hey And we're all pictures half drawn We can be anything we want Hey hey

Now is your time It's your life No one's living it but you In your hands is your chance to live the life you choose

Life's like music There's so much still unsung Make it magic There's so much still to come

'Cause we're all unfinished songs Waiting for the best part to come along Hey hey And we're all pictures half drawn We can be anything we want Hey hey

You can write the song and write the story Live all of this life in all its glory Take the time to make the time to make each moment count It's your life It's your call Grab the chance Have it all

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FNN8lB6Gb_Y

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The Gift of a Positive Outlook

Many of us are spending some time this evening reflecting back on 2013, thankful for the memories, or perhaps wishing things had gone a bit differently.  There may be some time set aside in how we plan to approach the next year.  My husband and I sit down each year and make plans for the next.  We map out how we plan to use our time, what we intend to do with our kids, what area of ministry we plan to serve and where we want to direct our money.  In other words, New Years provides a time to regroup and perhaps, redirect our focus.  How we approach that is entirely up to us. This reminds me of a conversation I had with my daughter a couple of years ago.  Brooklyn had had the most fabulous fifth grade year.  Her teachers made the school days interesting and fun; the students were friendly, polite and had an encouraging dose of enthusiasm for their time at school.  Brooklyn couldn’t imagine it could get any better.

The night before her sixth grade year started, she shared those very thoughts with me.  We discussed how blessed she was to have experienced such a wonderful school year in fifth grade, but that sixth grade could be just as good, if not better.  She wasn’t convinced.  She couldn’t see it being any better, nor nearly as good as what she had.  She just didn’t think it was possible.  I spoke with her about our outlook.  If she had already determined in her heart that sixth grade wasn’t going to be as fun as fifth, then it wouldn’t; but God could have even more wonderful things in store for her new school year.  And He did!  She absolutely loved sixth grade. What a great life lesson to learn so early.

My daughter’s thoughts weren’t immature though.  They were human.  But I believe as adults, we may be inclined to see it in the other direction.  It can be hard to imagine things getting better when we’re living in the muck and mire of a difficult time.  Life circumstances can be downright brutal.  However, if those realities consume our thoughts, we’ll never see brighter days.

I was honored to have met a man who illustrated the characteristic of a positive outlook.  Nate Waters sustained a spinal cord injury at the age of 19 from an altercation with his mother’s boyfriend.  Due to the resulting diagnosis of quadriplegia, Nate was dependent on nursing home care for over ten years.  At a time when most young people are discovering life and the world, Nate was attempting to accomplish tasks most of us take for granted.  But none of this kept him from pursuing his best.  Even a doctor telling him he would never have the use of his arms or legs prevented him from attaining his goals.

Nate could have spent the rest of his life in bitterness and anger.  He could have accepted the limitations many associate with his diagnosis.  He could have, but he didn’t.  Nate didn’t focus on the injury or the unfairness.  Nate Waters had unwavering determination, immeasurable optimism, and immense drive.  Those characteristics were noted from everyone who had the privilege of knowing him.

This amazing man made no excuses.  He graduated in 2005 with a Bachelor in Business Administration from Oklahoma State University.  He worked at Williams as an accountant and gave back to his community through his involvements in fundraising and public speaking.  He seized every opportunity meeting political leaders like Condoleezza Rice, Dick Cheney, Gerald Ford, Rudolph Guiliani and Colin Powell.  A dear friendship was formed between Nate and T. Boone Pickens who was instrumental in helping Nate reach the goal of independent living.  Nate had his own home, could make his bed, brush his teeth, do his own laundry and partially dress his self.  Although he needed nursing assistance, it didn’t limit his drive or his attitude.  The immense progress he experienced in his rehabilitation gave him great optimism in his on-going efforts to recover.  None of which would have been possible had he not been determined to think optimistically and try for what others deemed impossible.

Nate Waters passed away April 20, 2013 at the age of 35.  Nate touched countless lives and I’m deeply grateful mine was one of them.  He inspires me to dream big and continually strive for what is beyond my reach.

In the New Year, let us glean from Paul’s words:

Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 3:13-14 NIV

May we let go of what is behind….

May we press on…..

May we have an optimistic outlook knowing the One who calls us….

Happy New Year!!!!

~~ Nate Waters~~ 

http://www.ultimatetributes.com/pages/explore-tributes.asp?id=6823

http://www.fox23.com/news/local/story/TCC-breaks-ground-on-Nate-Waters-Physical-Therapy/ZRWKoiBHkEuN8VQoArkbPQ.cspx

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The Gift of Belonging

Every group I’ve been a part of started with some anticipation of not being received.  It must be a little natural to assume the possibility of not fitting in.  After all, there was a time in my early adolescence that I couldn’t seem to find my fit.  In the fog of trying to figure out who I was and who I wanted to be, I had this longing to belong.  It can be a dangerous place for young people; the reason why I’m deeply grateful for how the Lord orchestrated my steps and the people who helped me walk them. I’ve heard people refer to groups as being clicky.  The word carries a very negative portrayal of a cruel, obnoxious group of people.  But that doesn’t necessarily fit all the people who have been labeled as such.  I wonder how many people evaluate a group and conclude that they’re not accepted because they didn’t put themselves out there to take that first step, to face that possibility of rejection or perhaps the wonderful gift of belonging.

I remember my first day working in my unit.  I was super nervous about nursing alone.  I mean, I had the BSN education behind my name and that RN certification, but I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, and for some reason I had this fear-- as if I was going to need to resuscitate a baby on my own the first day (I didn't really think that, I just felt THAT nervous).  Coupled with anxiety was concern I wouldn’t be received.  I had signed a two-year contract.  I was committed to this place come rain or shine, and nothing would make that time inch by more than a cold hearted atmosphere.

My approach was to show myself friendly; don’t wait for others to introduce themselves to me; don’t wait for someone to roll out a welcome mat; just put myself out there and start learning this new group of people who were now my co-workers.  I spent the day saying, “Hi.  My name is Heather.  I’m new.”  There’s no telling how many times I shared that bit of information.  Everyone was warmly receptive.  But it wasn’t until I was in the break room and introduced myself to one of the ladies in housekeeping that I was told, “Yes.  I know.  You have a yellow badge.”  Oh my goodness!  My temporary new employee badge was this bright yellow, which screamed, “I’m new!”  And there I had been including that bit of information in my introductions.  So embarrassing, but so funny!

At this time of year when I’m evaluating all the gifts so meaningful to my life, I count the gift of belonging to such an incredible group of health care professionals as one of them.  I work with wonderful people!  And work is only one area.  I’m prompted to reflect on the groups I’ve had the privilege of belonging during the course of my life, the ones that played a role in who I became.

Why does this matter?  Because we all are designed to be loved.  Genesis 1:27 says that we were created in the image of God, and I John 4:8 tells us God is love.  Therefore, we are all geared to be loved.  To be accepted.  To be well received.  Anything less is a wall of protection and fear.

People give meaning to one another.  Being apart of something provides purpose.  The challenge is finding where is our niche.  And thankfully, we have the perfect Navigator to guide and direct us where we will be most effective for Him.  It may take some closed doors, but our ultimate goal is to be right where He wants us when He wants us there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Gift of Belonging:

Age 11

Oklahoma Kids ~ George and Rose Earley’s “Rock On” group

This group came along in God’s perfect timing.  I had great difficulty connecting with my peers at school and never felt that I fully re-assimilated with them after my accident.  Once I returned to school, I was constantly in and out for surgeries.  It was like the first day of school several times throughout each year. I just didn’t feel a part.  Then I found I really loved to sing.  I was nervous and shaky getting on stage, but still loved it and wanted to keep doing it.  George and Rose Earley gave their time to drive nearly an hour one way to work with a group of young performers in creating a show titled “Rock On.”  We practiced several nights a week and had shows on the weekends.  I found purpose and meaning during that time.  And above all, I found acceptance.  I experienced the wonderful feeling that comes from the gift of belonging.

My Gift of Belonging:

Age 13

Frontline Youth Ministries ~ Coweta Assembly of God ~ Steve and Michele Lee (click to visit Michele at her blog)

Yes, this was the age that things really started to unravel.  I was increasingly aware of my body, as many young people are at that age. The image I had of myself was very negative.  I detested the scars covering my body.  And insecurity paved the way for me to believe that those scars were what people really saw when they looked at me.  This led me down a path to take control of what I could control- my weight.  And it got ugly and dark.  I experienced that deep place of depression and that spiral fall of an eating disorder.  My youth pastors constantly spoke God’s Word into my heart and challenged me to see myself the way He saw me.  They allowed me to experience what it was to serve in ministry through music, singing praises to Him in our worship services.  It was a long road.  But my youth group provided me warm memories of fun, laughter and purpose through the many activities we shared together.

My Gift of Belonging:

TABS ~ Tulsa Area Burn Survivors

From the time I was injured in 1988 until now, my family has been involved with TABS.  When I was young we had consistent support group meetings, which was a magnificent blessing to my family.  My parents were greatly involved with giving of their time coordinating an annual 5K run, and constantly giving of their hearts, sharing their pain of loss and their obstacles of my recovery.  The time in TABS kept me close to the burn center where I received my care.  Literally.  The meetings were always in the burn center and that consistent return allowed me to see my nurses and meet new ones.  It kept the place that was home for a few months, feeling like home.  And that’s how it remains when I return today.  I’m proud to have the gift of belonging to such strong and brave people.

My Gift of Belonging:

OU College of Nursing

When I started to pursue the calling God had placed in my heart to become a nurse, I did it with complete focus on accomplishing exactly that-- becoming a nurse.  I didn't even consider the possibility of building special friendships with those along the way.  And I got more than friendships from the experience, I got a family.  We spent countless hours together in the classroom, in lab, in study and in clinical.  Nursing school was so taxing on my family.  It was a very difficult two years.  By the time we got to the end I told my husband, "I am so done.  I just want to be finished.  But I'm afraid that when it is, I will miss what has been one of the greatest seasons of my life."  Yes, I did say that it was a very difficult two years AND I said that it was one of the greatest seasons.  And that is because of the people who I spent it with.  Only God could have assembled our group the way He did, and the memories I have, the friendships I carry, the bond we share will be a most treasured gift of my life.

My Gift of Belonging:

My Family

God gave me a custom made group; my lil’ family.  Mark Batterson said something in one of his podcasts along the lines of the people who know you the best should love you the most.  My husband and my children see me.  They see every angle of me; the good, the bad and the ugly.  And they love me.  These people within the walls of the house I live in are my drive, my ambition, my joy, my pride, and they give the greatest meaning and purpose.  God wrapped up a gift in each of them.  I get to belong to them and them to me.  My precious gift.

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The Gift of a Year

In continuation with "The Gift" theme, focusing on the priceless gifts of life, I wanted to take a moment to share our annual Christmas letter with you.  The first Christmas letter we sent out was for our very first Christmas in 1999.

My sis-in-law, Nicki and I were discussing how much we enjoy reading others Christmas letters and how we pray that we always have something to write about.  Writing at the end of the year provides a moment to reflect back on the joys and fulfillment God blessed our family with; the gifts contained in each year.

Thank you for allowing me to share it with you!

From my heart to yours, Merry Christmas!

“Another year has gone by…..”

Those are the lyrics to a beautiful Christmas song that so accurately describes the sentiment of the season.  Every year seems to pass with increasing speed, and although we’re having tons of fun, there’s a somber emotion for how quickly this treasured time is passing.  As in Moses’ prayer, “Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom.” Psalm 90:12 NLT—our take away is to simply soak it up, each and every moment.  And no season emphasizes those special moments greater than the one that celebrates The One.

Embracing the present, and in anticipation of what 2014 has in store, we reflect back over the precious time we shared in 2013.  Our great gift is that of our family, friends and co-workers with whom we shared many memorable moments.

One of those times was this past February when we lost my Grandpa, whom the kids called Papa Cecil.  He passed away two days after his 91^st birthday.  It was a privilege to have him living so close these last few years, giving the kids a unique opportunity to truly know their great grandpa.  He was my last living grandparent, and I can only hope to inherit such longevity coupled with his strong sense of independence.

The summer months brought intense heat and delightful use of our new splash pad.  Adding a pool to our backyard was such a blessing.  We enjoyed parties and get-togethers with family, church family, neighbors, family friends, school friends and work friends.  We hope for many, many more, in the years to come!

Our year included a most joyful event, the birth of our nephew Charles Allen Barr on August 17^th.  Going by the adorable name, Charlie, this is Aunt Nicki and Uncle Brandon’s first baby.  The distance between Tulsa and Chicago stretched our patience as we had to wait until October to see him and love on him for the very first time. Although we wish we were closer to see him often, we’re cherishing those special times we do get to spend with him and his mama and daddy, especially his 1^st Christmas!

October rolled around and we took advantage of the kids’ school fall break.  We took them out of school for an extra two days and headed south to sunny Orlando.  We spent a day at Universal Studios, then cruised with Disney on a four night Bahamian cruise stopping in Nassau and Disney’s private island, Castaway Cay (pronounced Key), came back to land with a day’s visit to Kennedy Space Center and then concluded the trip back in Orlando with a day at Sea World.  We came home on empty, but with a “boat load” of treasured memories—pun intended. ;-)

Some of the highlights are featured on the back of our Christmas card. As you’ll see, we took Grandma along for the fun.  What a delight for all of us to get to share our very first cruise together.  However, it seems that Grandma was most excited of all since she had wanted to go on a cruise for the last 37 years.  It was quite the treat to get to share that highly anticipated trip with her.

The kids are all trucking along with activities and interests of their own.  Brooklyn turned 12 March 4^th.  She participated in two horse camps this summer and eagerly awaits the day when she has one in her own pasture.  She started 7^th grade this Fall participating in Cross Country for the first time.  She shaved three minutes off her time from her first to her last meet!  She is playing trumpet in band and still taking piano on the side.  Her most joyous occasion for the year was getting her braces off in November.  Her smile is gorgeous- it beams from the inside out!

Jaron is quickly approaching his 10^th birthday, coming up December 23^rd.  He had a big moment this past spring when he was chosen as his school’s Student of the Month.  He was treated to lunch with his principal, received special recognition in a school assembly, had his name on the school marque and in the town paper, and received a framed award.  We couldn’t have been more honored if the award would’ve had our own name on it!  We experienced inexpressible pride in his achievement.  We feel the same when he sits down to play piano or when he steps on the basketball court, baseball field and soccer field.  He’s quite the athlete.

Caden is following in big brother’s footsteps.  He has a “ball” every time he steps out to play any game.  Caden brings such joy to whatever he’s doing; basketball, baseball, soccer.  He is a true representation of what it is to have a good time.  Caden turned 7 on the first day of first grade, August 15^th.  His teacher made it a very special day with singing, prizes and even some birthday spankings!  We took cupcakes and candles and celebrated a big boy in a big way!

Gavin turned 4 on July 13^th and it’s wonderful to report that he has indeed finally found his friendly box.  Our shy and abrasive personality child has warmed up into a sweet, sometimes even conversationalist individual.  We loved watching him on the cruise greet and visit with the cast members and other passengers.  He is back at WEE two days a week for preschool and we are anticipating a full time Pre-K program next year for our second boy with the summer birthday.  It’s comforting sending him off as an older student, rather than as the baby of the class; an importantly sensitive category to avoid for the baby of the family who is determined to be big.

Brandon and I are trucking along with the kids’ schedules, oh, and we work too!  Did I hear an, “amen” from those of you in the same season of life?  Brandon passed his 1year anniversary with Quanta Services in August and I marked my 1year in the NICU at Saint Francis in July.  We are both so grateful that we get to do what we love.  We never want to overlook that huge blessing!

Another blessing has been the response to an unanticipated calling and vision for ministry, and that is the one at heathersblessedjourney.com.  The Lord has been faithful to provide for the material and open more speaking opportunities through that door.  But here is the challenge He has placed on my heart; to humbly ask for your support to grow this endeavor.  It would be a blessing and honor to have you share Heather’s Blessed JouRNey with your family, friends, small groups and coworkers and prayerfully consider me as a speaker for any special events or services the Lord may direct in that way.  These are steps of obedience as I don’t know the entire plan, but I know Who does.  And we’re taking it at that, one step at a time, seeking Him with every one.

In this inspiring time of year, may we consider one of our most precious gifts, our time.  It’s a commodity that is spent and can never be regained; nevertheless is always invested.  May we be intentional to invest our time into the priceless value of others; our children, our spouse, our families, friends, coworkers, and community.  Christ came to invest His all for each of us who are priceless to Him.

Love and Feel Loved,

Brandon, Heather,

Brooklyn, Jaron, Caden, & Gavin Meadows

and Daisy Mae too!

http://www.marchforbabies.org/meadows99 please help us in our efforts to improve the health of babies by reaching our $500 goal for the Spring 2014 March of Dimes Walk

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The Gift of Friendship

Do you remember the age when you’d get home from school, after being with your friends the entire day, and call them to talk on the phone?  The scene is different today with social media availability and texting options, but connecting with friends is still very important to young people.  And to old.  Friendship is a relationship that spans most of our lifetime, all across the ages. I remember my first school friend.  I was about four years old.  It’s funny I can’t remember what she looked like.  Only that she had long dark hair.  But I remember how much fun I had at Undercroft Montossori with Ashley Parker.  I don’t believe I ever referred to her by first name only.  When I spoke of my school friend it was always, Ashley Parker.  Something about her name must have been fascinating to me at that age.  (Or I was merely attempting to be grown up by sharing the fact that I knew her whole name!)  Then there was my friend, Cheryl whose house I had my first sleepover.  Our parents were friends, thus me being allowed to stay all night at a very young age.  She was a bit older than me and I felt so big in the time we spent together.

Those are my earliest memories of friendship.  And in my reflections, I realize how richly blessed my life has been with the gift of friendship.  I am reminded of that this time of year receiving cards, letters and attending gatherings with people I am so grateful to call “friend.”  Considering that this time in my life doesn’t allow for many opportunities to hang out with friends, the times we do spend together are truly cherished.

One friendship that has proven the test of time, and lack of time spent together, is the one I have with my best friend Amber.  We met, nearly twenty years ago in the eighth grade.  No doubt our friendship was established out of the mere convenience of going to school and church together; regardless, we had a connection.  And all I can really say is the old adage, “opposites attract.”

Amber and I were quite the opposite.  She was incredibly athletic.  I was not, in the least.  I loved to be up in front of people, singing or speaking.  She was quiet and more comfortable in the audience.  She was eager to experience the different facets of life.  I was happy to live within the lines.

We were always somewhat different.  But we had a bond.  And throughout the many different chapters of our lives, we have sustained that special bond.  It’s not a matter of convenience.  It’s not a matter of special interests.  It’s a matter of experience.  We have experienced life together and despite the changes, one thing remains, our friendship.

I haven’t seen my best friend in nine months, but I know when I do, we’ll soak up and enjoy every moment we have, because those moments aren’t available like they use to be.  Long gone are the days of chatting on the phone whenever we wanted.  Now we play phone tag and try to catch each other for chats during commutes in the car.  We give thanks for the memories we have and for the time we aim to get now. Amber says we should go on cruises together when we’re old and retired, and I bet we will because one thing is certain….we’ll still be friends.

Friendship may look a little different in this season of life, relishing the time with our children, running errands, balancing schedules, managing our homes and commitments to our careers.  But it is the security found in Proverbs 17:17 that makes us realize what a gift we have in our friends.

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity. (NIV)

May your life continue to be enriched with the wonderful love of a friend.

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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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