Clumsy

     Some days it seems I can do nothing right...haha I am a bit accident prone/clumsy/ditzy whatever you prefer to call it! Adam and I made dinner tonight except I kept messing everything up. First it was the rice. I put the water and the rice in the pot together....before I put it on boil. Then it was the cheese. I spilled half the bag on the floor en route to the tortillas on the counter. I am always doing stuff like that--burning fingers, putting in the wet ingredients with the dry, underbaking and overbaking. I just have to laugh at myself though. That is what I am good that!! I can laugh. Adam will just have to put up with me :) It does irritate him though. He is so opposite of me in regards to how the kitchen is run or how his apartment is set up. EVERYTHING has a home. I'm not kidding. I'm not exaggerating. If I put my shoes too close to the recliner, he will move them two inches to the right. If i drop one grain of rice on the ground, he will go by and pick it up. It's quite comical to watch. His pillows on his bed are THE WORST!!! Each pillow serves a purpose, and he has about ten of them. One for his head, one for his feet, one between his legs, one on top of his head.....the list goes on. His covers are arranged ever so perfectly. My favorite thing is to jump in his bed and mess all the covers up. Its funny to watch him try to not care. He'll tense up a little bit as I launch myself on top of his perfectly arranged bed and as soon as I leave, he is putting things back to order. 

I guess he will have to get used to a little chaos in his life ;) 

A memoir

     I have had a lot on my mind lately...as always. But in particular, I have been thinking about some former patients. Technically, they are not MY patients, but I like to call them that because I spent a lot of time with each of these babies and feel some sort of connection to them. Most of them were regulars in the icu where I work--staying for months or years at a time. My heart is full of sadness today, because one of those regulars passed away a few days ago. His name was JoJo, and he was incredible. 

     That little two year old had so much life in him, yet he was inches from death for most of his life. He spent his days in the hospital--in a bed, on a breathing machine, hooked up to IVs, fed through a tube in his little belly. Everyone knew JoJo.  Everyone loved JoJo. I remember the day I started work and found myself in JoJo's room. He was sitting upright in his bed, surrounded by all his stuffed animals, books, and toys, and he had a mischievous grin on his little face. I instantly fell in love with that tiny toddler. He had a fascination with Blue's Clues and would let you know, with much demanding, when he wanted to watch it. Because of the trach in his neck, he could not talk very well so he signed what he wanted to say. That only made him more precious. You couldn't deny him what he wanted. It was next to impossible. 

     I remember that I found relief in JoJo's room. Starting my job was stressful and incredibly intimidating. I was constantly being fearful of screwing things up or being yelled at by the multiple doctors or attendings that wander the unit. It was a tough transition. If I was having a bad day, I would go into JoJo's room and my mood was instantly lifted. You couldn't help but smile. He loved attention. He hated it when people left his room. He was such a joy and delight to be around and he brought so much life to the unit. 

    My heart is heavy today, not for myself, but for the wonderful family and friends he left behind. I know they wanted more time with JoJo. I know their hearts are aching and broken right now. I know they are confused and upset and hurt and angry. I know they are asking why. I know they are looking for answers. I know they wish they could turn back time and cherish every moment. I know because I have been through it. Not anything to the degree that JoJo's family is going through, but I have been around and experienced enough loss to know that it sucks. It's painful. It's ugly. It's awful. Christ never promises that life will be easy. Ugh. So true. He only promises that he will never leave. He only promises that he will be there to hold us when we are broken, to listen when we're angry, to wipe our tears when we cry. He promises peace and healing to those that call on Him. 

     The only light or hope I see in this devastating situation is this: JoJo is no longer in any more pain. He can walk, he can talk, he can breathe, he can laugh. JoJo is free. Free from the ventilator, free from tubes and lines and wires. JoJo is in heaven, in his complete and perfect form. He is home at last, even though it probably doesn't feel like it down here on earth. :(

Great Give-away

So, I found this girl's blog randomly one day, and I fell in love with her company called Good Gals Inc. (www.goodgalsinc.com ) She makes lingerie, more specifically pasties. They are all so adorable and would be GREAT gifts for lingerie showers, bachelorette parties, etc. You can custom make them or choose from one of her designs. One day I will purchase one of these for my hubby :)! I think they are so unique and classy. Anyways, I'm posting this because right now she is having a give away. You should check out her blog at http://goodgalsinc.blogspot.com/ She's going to give away some sets and you can get a half price coupon for posting about it in your blog :) Awesome. 

Come on people. Where is the love? Follow my blog :) 

All hail the Trans Sport

     As I was driving back to school the other day, I passed an old Pontiac Trans Sport van. Now, if you know anything about mini vans, you would now that this particular mini van was ahead of its time back in the ol' 90's. What do you mean, you ask? Well, I will let you in on a secret. This mini van's side door opens with the touch of a button. Yes, I know. You are all in disbelief. But, I distinctly remember being fascinated with this fantastic feature as a mere child. My family was not privileged enough to own such a high-tech van, so I just went over to my neighbors and played in her van instead. Yes. We would play in that van like it was a clubhouse or a modern day space ship. We would punch that little button and watch in amazement as the side door glided open and close with ease. We were in awe and disbelief. Just how in the world did that door open with no manual power? Were there tiny elves inside, hard at work constantly pushing and pulling the door? Did someone have an invisible string attached to the door, who gave a slight tug at the precise moment? Or perhaps it was pure magic, the work of none other than mystical powers? Whatever it was, it kept me at a constant state of awe. I was always the first to volunteer and to ride captain seat in the Trans Sport. I always rendered my services of being the one to push the beloved button. But you couldn't be too hasty--pushing the button before its time caused a nasty beeping noise. The Trans Sport was readily prepared for hasty little children like me.... Oh to be young and naive again.....

There she glows, in all her splendor and glory.....

Painful Realizations

      So my original intent for this blog was to share what was/is on my heart but I haven't exactly kept with this theme. It's so much easier to be superficial---to write about what I did last weekend or a funny story about friends. Those are all good and well, and I have no intentions of not including those, but I have come to realize these past few weeks how distant and numb my heart really is right now. I have a lot of emotions to sift through, a lot of choices to make, and a relationship to heal. 

     Why is it so easy for me to just turn my heart off? Why is it so easy for me to feel nothing but apathy? I have found myself in a deep valley these past few months and I am ready to climb out. I am ready to see sunlight. I am desperate to feel something, anything. Honesty has always been something very important to me, something that I feel obligated to share with others. But when it comes to myself, I am not always so quick to honesty. Truth hurts. It's ugly. It's messy. It's hard. 

    I am not going to run anymore. 

In church the other day my pastor Greg talked about how Christ was in the business of rescue. And this business is not a one-time-only rescue. He is in the business to rescue us time and time again. He doesn't care who you are, what you have done, how many times you have done it, or how you feel about him. He has made us a promise to rescue us whenever we call. All that is needed is a recognition. A recognition that we are desperate and in need. A recognition that we can no longer pull ourselves up out of the hole and need help. Admitting this is the first step to humility and healing. 

I am ready for my rescue. 

A fresh start.

I have been doing a lot of deep thinking and processing lately. I'm so thankful for the great friends in my life who I can talk to and just be completely honest with. I always appreciate their feedback (Even though it hurts sometimes). I think that everyone should have friends that ask the tough questions you spend your life avoiding. 

     These past few days have been a good thing, but definitely exhausting. I have a lot of mixed feelings and emotions but I am definitely excited for what this new year has to bring. I have realized this break how much I dislike who I have become. I am going to be doing things differently from now on, and I am both excited and scared for what is to come. 

I know this is very vague and short--I will blog after I have some more time to pray/process etc. 

Night!