Some of you may not know this, but after all my roommates moved away the Mitchell family offered to take me in and let me live in their guest bedroom until I finished school. Carey and Spencer are this wonderful couple who were my “adopted parents” from my church. They have always been wonderful about having me over and feeding me throughout college (not such an easy task when you have as many allergies as I do). Anyway, they allowed me to move into their house, and take over their guest bed/bathroom. Not only that, but they decided they wanted to bless me and not charge me any rent or living costs (despite the fact that they feed me at least 5 meals a week). Needless to say, they are WONDERFUL and I have been so extremely blessed to live with them.
Oh but it gets even better. They have four children. Yep. Four.
Let me give you the break down...
Ellie- 9 years old, in 4th grade and lives mostly in her own dream world. Mind you, this girl is totally brilliant, top of her class in both math and reading... yet about 75% of her time is spent in her head... life’s just more interesting there...
Clark- 5 years old, in Kindergarden and the policeman of the house. Clark loves rules and will make sure that everyone of his siblings are abiding by them. He is always on top of the schedule of what needs to get done. Don’t you be caught doing something you’re not supposed to when Clark’s around...
Wyatt- 3 years old, one of the twins. While all of his siblings have dark brown eyes, Wyatt has big blue ones. Wyatt is by far the most emotional one of the family... he quickly goes from screams of joy and laughter, to tears of utter anguish, back to laughter all in the span of 30 seconds... Wyatt has also always been the messy one of the two. Ever since he was little, anything that he ate ended up everywhere... for a while any sort of sauce that was for a meal (ex: spaghetti sauce) ended up all smeared into is curly hair and all over his face and even eyes...
Owen- 3 years old, the second twin. Owen is definitely the steady one of the twins. While his brother experiences the highest highs and lowest lows Owen watches with amusement, plotting along his own course, not easily thrown off the deep end of emotional chaos. Owen will finish the job, whereas Wyatt will try for a few minutes and go on to find bigger and better things to do. Owen and I have always had a very special relationship from the time he was very small. He’s my faithful Owie and I’m his “Ressa.”
Going from living with college roommates to four children has been quite a trip. Most of the time I just sit back and laugh at the chaos around me....
Now that you have a pretext for each of the kids and their personalities I thought you might enjoy a few stories...
Dinner time... Now as unrealistic as the stereotypical scene from a romantic movie is where the boy asks the girl to dance in the rain on some park bridge, is about as unrealistic as the movie representation of what a “family dinner” looks like. In the movies the children are clean and dressed cute. The table is fully set. Each person takes turn talking and laughter ensuing when the youngest says something cute...
Reality check.
By the time dinner is ready, and everybody sits down to eat, blood sugars are running low... a little too low if you know what I mean... Here is a typical scene from dinner time.
-Prayer- (the quiet before the storm)
-Clark “Mom how many bites do I have to eat?”
-Wyatt “ketchup!”
-Clark “What about 10 small bites”
-Ellie “what if there is aliens living on the moon?”
-Wyatt “KETCHUP!!!”
-Owen “Cut up please”
-Clark “Okay, 15 small bites?”
-Wyatt “MORE SAUCE MORE SAUCE”
-Owen “Look Ressa, Owen eat all green beans!”
-Ellie “If I eat everything can I have some I-C-E-C-R-E-A-M?” (mind you she learned early on that she couldn’t say the world “ice cream” because the twins would freak out and want some too)
-Clark “Oh! Can I have some I-C-A-E-A-M-E too please?!” (Clark knows he is asking for ice cream, but just can’t get the hang of spelling the words out yet...)
-Wyatt “HELP HELP... MORE KETCHUP”
-Clark “But I don’t like this!!! I don’t want to eat 15 small bites”
-Owen “ALL DONE... Owen messy... owen wash hands?”
-Wyatt “MOOORE MORE!!!!”
Now during this Carey and Spencer dutifully try to answer everyone’s questions, get more of what everybody needs... meanwhile trying to eat their own dinners and stay calm...
.............
I have to say today was especially humous. I was watching the twins for a few hours while Carey was at work. The weather was perfect and thus it was decided that we would venture out of the house and have a picnic at the park.
For the first 30 minutes it was movie perfect... The boys ran around squealing and laughing... they even managed to eat their picnic lunch setting their sandwiches down on the nasty picnic table only twice with me freaking out and telling them to put them back on the paper towel... after lunch they went back to playing, cue cuteness and lots of running around...
5 minutes later Wyatt comes to me, “I have to go potty.” Owen also chimed it “me too!”
Uh oh. I thought... public bathrooms and two three years olds who are just learning how to the “put the pee-pee in the potty”...This is not going to be good.
They follow me into the large handicap stall and I tell them not to touch ANYTHING. Wyatt is first and I cover the entire toilet with toilet paper, rolling up his long sleeves (much to his dismay) to try and prevent them from touching the seat.... He manages to go alright and I scoop him up to wash his hands. Afterwards I put his hands under the automatic dryer... however it isn’t one of the wimpy ones, its one of the super-powerful dryers that sounds like a jet engine.... Of course it scares the poor little guy half to death and instantly ensues screaming and crying... it only took a few seconds to calm him down... although I think he was a bit traumatized because for the remainder of time while we were in the bathroom he kept telling me “No fan Ressa... no loud fan...” every 30 seconds... just in case I had forgotten...
Owen’s turn.
Once again I used a half roll of TP to cover the toilet. Success. Not too many germs, and two pairs of dry pants. Score! I foolishly thought I was in the clear...
We returned to the joy of the playground for another glorious 15 minutes... all of the sudden I heard the dreaded words from Wyatt... “Ressa! I wet!!! I WET!”
Sure enough... apparently, he hadn’t let all the pee-pee out... and in the excitement of returning to all the slides and swings he hadn’t realized that he needed to go potty again... perhaps this was my fault though... maybe I scared him so badly with the automatic hand dryer that he chose to wet himself rather than face the scary loud monster fan...
Something I have learned about being around kids so much. All joy can turn to utter distress and chaos within one second. Just one second is all it takes for all manner of organization to fall apart and for one or all of the children to lose it.
We headed back to the van Wyatt repeating the whole way “I wet... I wet...” Owen, on the other hand, repeating “No, I no go home... I slide... no Ressa! No go home!” I turned to Owen and said, “Owen, Wyatt’s pants are wet buddy... we have to see if we have more pants in the van. If there aren’t any pants in the car we have to go home because Wyatt can’t play in the park naked can he?” He looked at me and simply said, “No naked...”
Upon getting to the van I realized to my luck that there was one solitary diaper that would suffice for the remainder of the trip home. As I went to take off Wyatt’s wet pants and underwear he all of the sudden decided it would be a good time to pee again. Of course my own screaming ensued “No Wyatt! Don’t pee!! Stop peeing!!” as I tried to catch it all with my one dry diaper... But the poor little 3 year old didn’t quite have the capability to stop on command.... I quickly decided that him standing in the van was not the best option. Instantly I set him down in the dirt and told him to let all the pee-pee out. It lasted for about 5 seconds until Wyatt realized that the pee was trickling down his leg, making a puddle at his feet, “No Mud!!! NO MUD!! NOOO MUDDDDD!!!” What was I going to do? Suddenly it hit me. I sat the boy down on the edge of the van and used an empty Starbucks cup as make-shift urinal. Wyatt in utter distress cried “No Pee-pee in cup!! No pee-pee in cup... I pee-pee in potty!” I looked at him... “Wyatt, there is no potty... you just need to pee-pee in the cup, okay?”
Sure enough, much to his breaking heart... he managed to do it...
Now what? I had no dry clothes. The one diaper I had was now wet from trying to catch the pee rather than letting it soak into the van carpet... I guess he’s just going to have to ride home naked. Poor kid.
While he was quite upset about it, I explained to him that there was no clothes for him to wear, he looked up at me with his big blue eyes, and in his broken-hearted manner said “Oohhkay....”
............
In the end I know that no matter of pee, poop or snotty noses could ever make me love these kids any less. I love turning the key in the door and coming home to screams all over the house “RESSA HOME!!! RESSA!!!!” I love the hugs and kisses I get before bed, or I leave to go anywhere... I love them.
How lucky am I to be apart of their lives?
Friday, December 02, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
"Oh Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts"
Like a movie scene (minus the emotional music), I found myself engrossed by my surroundings as my body was propelled forward on the swing...
Now if you are a professional ‘swinger’, such as myself, you know that there are many different levels of swings ranging from lame to super cool. This just happens to be an awesome one. Not only is the rope really long (which leads to extra length that you can travel both forwards and backwards) but it also sits on the top of a hill (this adds an extra special dynamic to the ride as it creates the illusion of flying). The swing was calling to me as there was a perfect mix of cool, crisp autumn air with a slightly warm breeze to rustle through the leaves. Throw in some brightly painted orange, and yellow trees and you have yourself a perfect scene. Without hesitation I threw down my NCLEX book excited for some time completely dedicated to swinging and deep thought...
I got myself comfortable in my seat... backed way up, and let myself go to be lunched forward over the hill... back and forth.... back and forth... back and forth... the only sound to be heard was the rattle of leaves as the wind passed through them... back and forth... back and forth... back and forth I swung....Now what to think about, I thought... Okay what about nursing school and the drama amongst my classmates... Blank. Okay, a different subject... hmm.... my family, and all the stuff that is going on with my Dad’s eye... Blank. How to make new friends?... Blank. Okay... I know! I will stoop low and think about what exactly I need to do to get a man... Still blank. Then it hit me. Oh. My. Word. I have an inability to spend time in “deep thought”!
Now this brings about a serious dilemma... if you know my mother, you would know this is especially a problem. My mom is the QUEEN of deep thought, and is constantly lost in it. She is always wrestling with issues- usually pertaining to theology, women’s issues in the church, how to counsel women better, etc... you name it and I can guarantee that my mother has spent time pondering it... Then there is me. Her daughter with the blank mind.
From a young age I can remember my mother trying to train me how to ponder issues... but it always lead to complete frustration on both our sides... How can I be completely unable to spend time in “deep thought?” Is this a lack of intelligence on my part? Am I just lazy? Shallow?
But alas, I don’t believe so. I am now completely convinced that I have the inability to mull over/ponder/wrestle based on my personality. I don’t really need to, and never had needed to go off by myself to gather my thoughts and come up with a conclusion. I simply make a decision and am done with it.
Haven’t I ever laid awake at night with my mind racing? Absolutely. However, it is ALWAYS about the same things. Schedules, and to-do lists. I am completely wired for organization and the immediate detail of life.
Let me give you an example. You are staying by the beach and you decide to go for a moonlight stroll by the water alone. I’m sure you’ve probably done this before... what did you think about? Did you come back more refreshed? Did you resolve any issues that were going around and around in your head just by getting time away to “sort things out?” Now let me give you my thought process, which up until recently I thought was perfectly normal. Oh wow, the moon is pretty, the stars are so bright...... lets see if I can make a perfect footprint in the sand... I wonder if there are any sharks watching me right now... I’m going to count shells, 1, 2, 3, 4........ oh look a person! I wonder who they are, what they are doing here, do you think they could be a murderer? Don’t make eye contact... oh good he is gone... actually he was kinda cute... Man it is dark!...... I wonder how long I have been out here...... Was that a shark that just jumped out of the water?..... I guess I won’t need a pedicure if I keep walking in this sand..................... okay, where are my friends, I’m bored...
Maybe this is the reason why I need so little “down time.” I don’t need anytime to sort out my emotions or thoughts... when issues come up I simply deal with them right then and there and decide where exactly to file it in my brain. Done. Easy.
Call me shallow, slow, or lazy but I am convinced that my personality is not suited for being lost in “deep thought”... Sorry Mom... you DID try...
So there I was... swinging back and forth on the perfect autumn day... trying to come up with what in the world I should occupy my mind with as I physically enjoyed the activity... So you know what I did? Prayed. Now that is something that I have the ability to do, and thoroughly enjoy...
Now if you are a professional ‘swinger’, such as myself, you know that there are many different levels of swings ranging from lame to super cool. This just happens to be an awesome one. Not only is the rope really long (which leads to extra length that you can travel both forwards and backwards) but it also sits on the top of a hill (this adds an extra special dynamic to the ride as it creates the illusion of flying). The swing was calling to me as there was a perfect mix of cool, crisp autumn air with a slightly warm breeze to rustle through the leaves. Throw in some brightly painted orange, and yellow trees and you have yourself a perfect scene. Without hesitation I threw down my NCLEX book excited for some time completely dedicated to swinging and deep thought...
I got myself comfortable in my seat... backed way up, and let myself go to be lunched forward over the hill... back and forth.... back and forth... back and forth... the only sound to be heard was the rattle of leaves as the wind passed through them... back and forth... back and forth... back and forth I swung....Now what to think about, I thought... Okay what about nursing school and the drama amongst my classmates... Blank. Okay, a different subject... hmm.... my family, and all the stuff that is going on with my Dad’s eye... Blank. How to make new friends?... Blank. Okay... I know! I will stoop low and think about what exactly I need to do to get a man... Still blank. Then it hit me. Oh. My. Word. I have an inability to spend time in “deep thought”!
Now this brings about a serious dilemma... if you know my mother, you would know this is especially a problem. My mom is the QUEEN of deep thought, and is constantly lost in it. She is always wrestling with issues- usually pertaining to theology, women’s issues in the church, how to counsel women better, etc... you name it and I can guarantee that my mother has spent time pondering it... Then there is me. Her daughter with the blank mind.
From a young age I can remember my mother trying to train me how to ponder issues... but it always lead to complete frustration on both our sides... How can I be completely unable to spend time in “deep thought?” Is this a lack of intelligence on my part? Am I just lazy? Shallow?
But alas, I don’t believe so. I am now completely convinced that I have the inability to mull over/ponder/wrestle based on my personality. I don’t really need to, and never had needed to go off by myself to gather my thoughts and come up with a conclusion. I simply make a decision and am done with it.
Haven’t I ever laid awake at night with my mind racing? Absolutely. However, it is ALWAYS about the same things. Schedules, and to-do lists. I am completely wired for organization and the immediate detail of life.
Let me give you an example. You are staying by the beach and you decide to go for a moonlight stroll by the water alone. I’m sure you’ve probably done this before... what did you think about? Did you come back more refreshed? Did you resolve any issues that were going around and around in your head just by getting time away to “sort things out?” Now let me give you my thought process, which up until recently I thought was perfectly normal. Oh wow, the moon is pretty, the stars are so bright...... lets see if I can make a perfect footprint in the sand... I wonder if there are any sharks watching me right now... I’m going to count shells, 1, 2, 3, 4........ oh look a person! I wonder who they are, what they are doing here, do you think they could be a murderer? Don’t make eye contact... oh good he is gone... actually he was kinda cute... Man it is dark!...... I wonder how long I have been out here...... Was that a shark that just jumped out of the water?..... I guess I won’t need a pedicure if I keep walking in this sand..................... okay, where are my friends, I’m bored...
Maybe this is the reason why I need so little “down time.” I don’t need anytime to sort out my emotions or thoughts... when issues come up I simply deal with them right then and there and decide where exactly to file it in my brain. Done. Easy.
Call me shallow, slow, or lazy but I am convinced that my personality is not suited for being lost in “deep thought”... Sorry Mom... you DID try...
So there I was... swinging back and forth on the perfect autumn day... trying to come up with what in the world I should occupy my mind with as I physically enjoyed the activity... So you know what I did? Prayed. Now that is something that I have the ability to do, and thoroughly enjoy...
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
"Smile and DON'T lock your knees!!"
So this past weekend I was exposed to yet another potential career for myself. While nursing is my #1 pursuit right now these are all the others that I have stashed in my safe, just in case I need to use them one day: singer, painter, dancer, photographer, writer, organizer, decorator, and CEO. However, along with all my string of accomplishments and talents *cough, cough*, I have decided to add in all seriousness, “Wedding Coordinator” to the top of the list (second only to nurse).
About three months ago or so I received a call from my childhood friend Shannon who was getting married soon. She said, “Larissa, I wanted to ask you a favor- I need a wedding coordinator for the day of the wedding to make sure everything runs smoothly. The person needs to be bossy but nice and organized- and you were the first person who came to mind. What do you think?” What do you think I said? “I’d be Honored Shannon!! I am so glad you thought of me first!” (Please take note that there was no argument in whether or not I could be bossy enough...)
Now, about this time many of you are thinking, “What qualifications do you possess to think you could just step into this role and run the show?!” Therefore, in order to proceed I will list my qualifications for this position:
I am bossy
2. I am organized
3. I have been in A LOT of weddings
4. I am bossy- and ENJOY being so...
Moving on.
The rehearsal was my first taste of power. As I whirled around everyone organizing people, working on timing, who does what and stands where... I thrived. Weddings I think are more fun than any other events to be in charge of, mostly because it is a celebration and happy time. (Well, I guess that can depend on the bride- but for the record, Shannon you were a doll.)
Wedding day finally came. I stepped into my element. Just like an actress steps on stage and thinks, “Yes, this is it.” So also, I easily embraced the role, put my gears into 5th, and made sure everything was in place to have a kick-butt wedding. It went by almost flawlessly. Not to brag, by any means, but I was lucky enough to work with a wonderful crew of individuals from the catering company, to the venue to the DJ. Funny thing was, everyone thought I was a professional wedding coordinator/planner. While my parents sat at the dinner table with a group of strangers, one of the ladies started to tell them how usually the wedding coordinators were so snippy, and rude- but that the one Shannon hired was so nice- so much so that everyone just wanted to help her and do whatever she said just because she was so sweet. Naturally my parents burst out laughing- making sure they clarified that she was indeed talking about me- the very bossy, but not always so sweet Larissa.
In all, this was one of the most fun experiences I have had in a long time. While I readily collapsed upon arrival at the hotel- I could not help repeat over and over again, that indeed I had found my new calling.
Now why hadn’t I found this BEFORE I went through all the laborious pains of nursing school?!
All that aside, I have a few notes I have made for myself for the next time I get the privilege of being a wedding coordinator...
1. Wear more sensible shoes- 3 1/2 in heels are cute and all, but when you are running around (especially outside in gravel)- stilettos are not the wisest pick.
2. Know more about proper wedding tradition- for instance, which side is the brides/groom, which side a man stands on to escort the woman, etc... gotta work on my etiquette.
3. Have a better notebook put together- I had far too many loose papers flying around with important info on each of them
4. Wear clothing that has lots of pockets to be sure to have enough room to carry any necessary items (cell phones, pens, emergency safety pins, etc)
About three months ago or so I received a call from my childhood friend Shannon who was getting married soon. She said, “Larissa, I wanted to ask you a favor- I need a wedding coordinator for the day of the wedding to make sure everything runs smoothly. The person needs to be bossy but nice and organized- and you were the first person who came to mind. What do you think?” What do you think I said? “I’d be Honored Shannon!! I am so glad you thought of me first!” (Please take note that there was no argument in whether or not I could be bossy enough...)
Now, about this time many of you are thinking, “What qualifications do you possess to think you could just step into this role and run the show?!” Therefore, in order to proceed I will list my qualifications for this position:
I am bossy
2. I am organized
3. I have been in A LOT of weddings
4. I am bossy- and ENJOY being so...
Moving on.
The rehearsal was my first taste of power. As I whirled around everyone organizing people, working on timing, who does what and stands where... I thrived. Weddings I think are more fun than any other events to be in charge of, mostly because it is a celebration and happy time. (Well, I guess that can depend on the bride- but for the record, Shannon you were a doll.)
Wedding day finally came. I stepped into my element. Just like an actress steps on stage and thinks, “Yes, this is it.” So also, I easily embraced the role, put my gears into 5th, and made sure everything was in place to have a kick-butt wedding. It went by almost flawlessly. Not to brag, by any means, but I was lucky enough to work with a wonderful crew of individuals from the catering company, to the venue to the DJ. Funny thing was, everyone thought I was a professional wedding coordinator/planner. While my parents sat at the dinner table with a group of strangers, one of the ladies started to tell them how usually the wedding coordinators were so snippy, and rude- but that the one Shannon hired was so nice- so much so that everyone just wanted to help her and do whatever she said just because she was so sweet. Naturally my parents burst out laughing- making sure they clarified that she was indeed talking about me- the very bossy, but not always so sweet Larissa.
In all, this was one of the most fun experiences I have had in a long time. While I readily collapsed upon arrival at the hotel- I could not help repeat over and over again, that indeed I had found my new calling.
Now why hadn’t I found this BEFORE I went through all the laborious pains of nursing school?!
All that aside, I have a few notes I have made for myself for the next time I get the privilege of being a wedding coordinator...
1. Wear more sensible shoes- 3 1/2 in heels are cute and all, but when you are running around (especially outside in gravel)- stilettos are not the wisest pick.
2. Know more about proper wedding tradition- for instance, which side is the brides/groom, which side a man stands on to escort the woman, etc... gotta work on my etiquette.
3. Have a better notebook put together- I had far too many loose papers flying around with important info on each of them
4. Wear clothing that has lots of pockets to be sure to have enough room to carry any necessary items (cell phones, pens, emergency safety pins, etc)
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Suddenly Breathing Underwater
Have you ever gone away on vacation, only to arrive more stressed than when you left? Now please note that this is not necessarily due to an in ability to stop thinking about work. For me it is quite the contrary. When I go away, I distance myself from my real life, and almost become a different person, enjoying every activity, and every night of peaceful sleep... But of course, vacations always end don’t they? Sure enough, you end up back in your own bed, trying to sleep meanwhile your mind races about how much you need to get done.
Yesterday I could feel the stress start to creep over me. While my family and I were loving our time, touring Charleston, a feeling of complete dread started in my toes. By 1PM, I was knee deep, and 8PM chest deep. It wasn’t until this morning though that I woke up, completely drowning in stress, nervousness, and dread. Nothing like a morning stress attack to welcome you back home.
Along with a lousy morning, I ended up finding out some really bad news about my dad. Basically, the surgeon permanently messed up his eye, and the damage to his optic nerve is irreversible. Great. Further disappointment in the day alloted me a well deserved bowl of ice cream. But as I scrapped the last of the creamy goodness from the bottom of the dish, I am moving on. Here is my simple list of reminders for myself:
1. Whip my butt back into school mode, reviewing all preceptorship material, and cardiac meds
2. Know that God is in control of mine and my Dad’s lives. He sees the best for us (not always referring to happiness, but holiness) and will work in our lives however He chooses, which may include my Dad going blind at a young age- oh to Him be the Glory.
3. Pray. A lot.
Yep, that's all I got. But you know what? That is all I need... for tomorrow anyway...
Yesterday I could feel the stress start to creep over me. While my family and I were loving our time, touring Charleston, a feeling of complete dread started in my toes. By 1PM, I was knee deep, and 8PM chest deep. It wasn’t until this morning though that I woke up, completely drowning in stress, nervousness, and dread. Nothing like a morning stress attack to welcome you back home.
Along with a lousy morning, I ended up finding out some really bad news about my dad. Basically, the surgeon permanently messed up his eye, and the damage to his optic nerve is irreversible. Great. Further disappointment in the day alloted me a well deserved bowl of ice cream. But as I scrapped the last of the creamy goodness from the bottom of the dish, I am moving on. Here is my simple list of reminders for myself:
1. Whip my butt back into school mode, reviewing all preceptorship material, and cardiac meds
2. Know that God is in control of mine and my Dad’s lives. He sees the best for us (not always referring to happiness, but holiness) and will work in our lives however He chooses, which may include my Dad going blind at a young age- oh to Him be the Glory.
3. Pray. A lot.
Yep, that's all I got. But you know what? That is all I need... for tomorrow anyway...
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
What a view!
Imagine yourself hiking to the top of a mountain. But before you even start the hike you planned and prepared for all the things you were going to need on your journey, energy bars, water... each necessity carefully tucked into your fifty-pocket hikers backpack. You start out. About a third of the way into the hike someone stops you and insists you carry an extra ten pound weight in your bag. You continue to trek nonetheless wishing that you would followed someone else’s advice not to wear new shoes. Some time passes. Again, the person stops you and this time gives you an extra twenty pounds to carry. However discouraged you are, you continue. You’re getting higher in altitude now. With every breath your lungs fill with a colder air that burns as it mixes with your hot body temperature. All too soon another weight is added to the pack, this time thirty pounds... Can’t you feel the sweat dripping down your back between your shoulder blades? You keep giving yourself mini neck massages every fifteen minutes or so due to the strain of the weighty pack. Not only do you have shin-splints but your thighs are starting to cramp up. Just like the little-train-that-could, you keep repeating to yourself, “I’m almost there. I’m almost there. I’m almost there.” Then, all of the sudden something happens... you turn a corner and there you are, on the summit. Oh the glorious, red and golden light that spans across the horizon as you look out over the valley just before the sun goes down! Exhausted you drop your backpack next to you as you fall into a seated position.... Time passes, just enough to allow your breathing patterns to return to a normal rhythm and most of your sweat soaked body to dry. You look around... Now what?
Welcome to my summit.
For the past six to eight years of my life I have been preparing for this. Graduation. I have planned and prepped, research and studied all the best methods of how to get into nursing school and where I should go. I made sure my backpack was filled with all of the best equipment I could get, grades, test scores and connections. I began to hike. Not long after I began, I was diagnosed with my first round of diseases, a peanut and gluten allergy, my ten pound weight. I continued in peace knowing this was God’s plan for me from the beginning. Some time passed... Just when I was used to the added load God in His goodness opened my sack and added another weight. Narcolepsy. And oh, did I bitterly complain. “Why me? This is humiliating. Take it away. Do you really think I am going to get to the top of this mountain with this in the bag? No! I just can’t do it. This is just too much.” But God in His tenderness spoke to my heart. “Child, don’t you know that this is yet another step that is bringing you closer to Myself? Hide yourself in Me. Cling to Me and I will take that heavy burden off of your back and place it on My own shoulders.” And thus the hike continued... While the actual weight of the pack didn’t ever get physically lighter, the burden itself did. The more I was able to understand God’s goodness, and hand upon my life, the more nimble I was able to move to the top. But yet once again, I was stopped in my place and asked to open my pack for one more weight. Cancer. By this time I had learned at least a few lessons and not only did I thank God as I zipped up my bag, but as I turned to struggle back up the mountain I sang out loud they lyrics of Casting Crown’s ‘Praise You In This Storm.’ Something I realized at this point was that my goal wasn’t to get to the top, it was to take one more step knowing that it was glorifying God. Step by step by step I turned the corner and suddenly have arrived.
And here I sit, the sweat drying on my forehead, pack beside me, all the while thinking, “Now what?”
Have you even felt like what God is doing in your life is all in the past? Do you ever look back and say,“Thank you for that. Thank you for drawing me to Yourself... but now what?” As my family and friends cheered my on and encouraged me as I huffed and puffed up the mountain I heard time and time again, “Larissa, if this is what He is bringing you through now, imagine what He is going to do through you in the future.” As much as I have clung to this, I also fear it. First I think, am I so stubborn and thickheaded that I can only learn important lessons by being diagnosed with diseases? If so, how many more will I have in ten years? What if it’s worse though? What if God was just preparing me for something really major, like losing my brother, or one of my parents?
More than anything else I fear, what if this is it? What if God is done doing big things in my life? What if I end up being sixty and only have the medical history of my twenties to speak to the testimony of God? What if I am just destined to sit on top of this high mountain, watching each sunset come and go for the rest of my life? What if God is tired of my sin and complaining and has found someone in much better spiritual shape than me, who could surely carry twice the load in half the time?
I can only rest in what God’s Word says. For the past nine weeks I have been studying the book of Esther. Here is a few things I have learned:
1. Fears that begin in “what if” are always and should always be followed by, “Then God...”
2. When you wait on a thing/event you will always end up depleted. Instead, wait upon the Lord!
3. God is not finished with me yet. One day I will be able to look back on this and laugh to myself saying, “Ha! I wasn’t on a mountain! Just a little hill! If I had only had the smallest concept of the long hikes we’d be taking together... just the King and I...” Because His destiny for me does not end at this summit, but instead leads me all the way to the kingdom, straight into His arms.
Well, I’ve gotten back on my feet, pack securely strapped to my back. I’m not sure exactly which trail to take next, but I will tell you this... I left the zipper partially undone for Him... just in case... I mean why not? It’s not like I’m carrying the burden of this bag anyway...
Welcome to my summit.
For the past six to eight years of my life I have been preparing for this. Graduation. I have planned and prepped, research and studied all the best methods of how to get into nursing school and where I should go. I made sure my backpack was filled with all of the best equipment I could get, grades, test scores and connections. I began to hike. Not long after I began, I was diagnosed with my first round of diseases, a peanut and gluten allergy, my ten pound weight. I continued in peace knowing this was God’s plan for me from the beginning. Some time passed... Just when I was used to the added load God in His goodness opened my sack and added another weight. Narcolepsy. And oh, did I bitterly complain. “Why me? This is humiliating. Take it away. Do you really think I am going to get to the top of this mountain with this in the bag? No! I just can’t do it. This is just too much.” But God in His tenderness spoke to my heart. “Child, don’t you know that this is yet another step that is bringing you closer to Myself? Hide yourself in Me. Cling to Me and I will take that heavy burden off of your back and place it on My own shoulders.” And thus the hike continued... While the actual weight of the pack didn’t ever get physically lighter, the burden itself did. The more I was able to understand God’s goodness, and hand upon my life, the more nimble I was able to move to the top. But yet once again, I was stopped in my place and asked to open my pack for one more weight. Cancer. By this time I had learned at least a few lessons and not only did I thank God as I zipped up my bag, but as I turned to struggle back up the mountain I sang out loud they lyrics of Casting Crown’s ‘Praise You In This Storm.’ Something I realized at this point was that my goal wasn’t to get to the top, it was to take one more step knowing that it was glorifying God. Step by step by step I turned the corner and suddenly have arrived.
And here I sit, the sweat drying on my forehead, pack beside me, all the while thinking, “Now what?”
Have you even felt like what God is doing in your life is all in the past? Do you ever look back and say,“Thank you for that. Thank you for drawing me to Yourself... but now what?” As my family and friends cheered my on and encouraged me as I huffed and puffed up the mountain I heard time and time again, “Larissa, if this is what He is bringing you through now, imagine what He is going to do through you in the future.” As much as I have clung to this, I also fear it. First I think, am I so stubborn and thickheaded that I can only learn important lessons by being diagnosed with diseases? If so, how many more will I have in ten years? What if it’s worse though? What if God was just preparing me for something really major, like losing my brother, or one of my parents?
More than anything else I fear, what if this is it? What if God is done doing big things in my life? What if I end up being sixty and only have the medical history of my twenties to speak to the testimony of God? What if I am just destined to sit on top of this high mountain, watching each sunset come and go for the rest of my life? What if God is tired of my sin and complaining and has found someone in much better spiritual shape than me, who could surely carry twice the load in half the time?
I can only rest in what God’s Word says. For the past nine weeks I have been studying the book of Esther. Here is a few things I have learned:
1. Fears that begin in “what if” are always and should always be followed by, “Then God...”
2. When you wait on a thing/event you will always end up depleted. Instead, wait upon the Lord!
3. God is not finished with me yet. One day I will be able to look back on this and laugh to myself saying, “Ha! I wasn’t on a mountain! Just a little hill! If I had only had the smallest concept of the long hikes we’d be taking together... just the King and I...” Because His destiny for me does not end at this summit, but instead leads me all the way to the kingdom, straight into His arms.
Well, I’ve gotten back on my feet, pack securely strapped to my back. I’m not sure exactly which trail to take next, but I will tell you this... I left the zipper partially undone for Him... just in case... I mean why not? It’s not like I’m carrying the burden of this bag anyway...
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Husband Hunting
As promised, here is my next post. However, I changed the title from “Husband Shopping” to “Husband Hunting.” Not only does this title have a better ring to it, but also the imagery is more appropriate. With a title that includes the word “Shopping,” the reader most likely pictures entering a large building of sorts, stocked full of a variety of items, differing in size, color, etc. Hunting, on the other hand, emphasizes the complexity of the task. First, proper equipment and clothing is required. Second, hunting requires some sort of skill, as often beginner hunters come home empty handed. Lastly, so called “luck” has to be on your side as well. You may have all the proper equipment, clothing, and skills; however without “luck” on your side, all that might come across your path is a squirrel or two. Yes, looking for a husband is much more like hunting, than shopping.
Well, about a month and a half ago I purchased my license to hunt. This is a strange place in life to be. For the past couple years I have seen most of my girlfriends come home with each of their special seven-point bucks. While many invited me to go out hunting with them, I assured them that my buck was going to find me in the library or even sit down next to me in Starbucks. Shock of all shocks that didn’t happen. So here I am, hunting license in tow, and no experience to aid me in my endeavor to “catch a good one.” It is a tricky thing for me, hunting is… mostly because I have to be patient. Here I am, sitting up high in a tree, gun ready at my side, waiting… and waiting… and waiting. I will have to tell you, I did originally take a couple of shots. Sadly though, each of the prizes ran off in the opposite direction. It is so quiet and lonely up in this tree. Half of me wants to jump down, go home, and buy a cat or maybe two. However, the other part of me keeps saying “wait for it… wait for it...” So far, my Mom, grandmother, and all other married, er… ‘retired hunter’ friends have given me a list of instructions and tips. These instructions include the following:
1. Be patient and don’t shoot too soon, until you are sure it’s a keeper. (Please note this is the most common/popular tip for new hunters)
2. Make sure you cover up the scent of your desperation with a scent of ambivalence. (*sniffs self* Wait, I didn’t think I smelled desperate!)
3. Be picky, but of course not too picky! (Whatever that means)
4. Be patient (Yes, you’ve said this already…)
While I try to relax and wait for my seven-point buck to come along, I can’t help but wondering if this is really worth the wait? Hunting is very frustrating, especially if you have never experienced the satisfying ending of a prize-winning animal to tote home and show to all your friends. Alas, I will wait. Knowing… hoping rather that my wait will not be in vain. Until something changes, here you will find me… sitting high up in this dumb tree… painting my nails to pass the time…
Well, about a month and a half ago I purchased my license to hunt. This is a strange place in life to be. For the past couple years I have seen most of my girlfriends come home with each of their special seven-point bucks. While many invited me to go out hunting with them, I assured them that my buck was going to find me in the library or even sit down next to me in Starbucks. Shock of all shocks that didn’t happen. So here I am, hunting license in tow, and no experience to aid me in my endeavor to “catch a good one.” It is a tricky thing for me, hunting is… mostly because I have to be patient. Here I am, sitting up high in a tree, gun ready at my side, waiting… and waiting… and waiting. I will have to tell you, I did originally take a couple of shots. Sadly though, each of the prizes ran off in the opposite direction. It is so quiet and lonely up in this tree. Half of me wants to jump down, go home, and buy a cat or maybe two. However, the other part of me keeps saying “wait for it… wait for it...” So far, my Mom, grandmother, and all other married, er… ‘retired hunter’ friends have given me a list of instructions and tips. These instructions include the following:
1. Be patient and don’t shoot too soon, until you are sure it’s a keeper. (Please note this is the most common/popular tip for new hunters)
2. Make sure you cover up the scent of your desperation with a scent of ambivalence. (*sniffs self* Wait, I didn’t think I smelled desperate!)
3. Be picky, but of course not too picky! (Whatever that means)
4. Be patient (Yes, you’ve said this already…)
While I try to relax and wait for my seven-point buck to come along, I can’t help but wondering if this is really worth the wait? Hunting is very frustrating, especially if you have never experienced the satisfying ending of a prize-winning animal to tote home and show to all your friends. Alas, I will wait. Knowing… hoping rather that my wait will not be in vain. Until something changes, here you will find me… sitting high up in this dumb tree… painting my nails to pass the time…
Sunday, November 06, 2011
Back to the land of the bloggers
Welcome to my newly remodeled "Square Peg in a Round World." Feel free to browse my previous posts, but know that they were all written many, many years ago. That being said, I suddenly am cognizant of the wrinkles on my face and hands. How did I get this old? I swear it was yesterday that I could hear my beanie babies talk to me, and now I can't even come up with a good story line to play Barbies anymore.
Today Alice asked me to start blogging again, which brought back all the memories I had of keeping up a blog. I loved it. It became my way of relaxing, and yet a way that challenged me to become a more thoughtful and creative writer. Throughout my day I would try to catch funny and intriguing things that happened- all to benefit my oh so adoring fans.
I make no promises sticking to this. But then again, who is even reading this anyway? Perhaps I will just pretend- it is always more fun that way. As I close, I am already thinking of the topic of my next update. Please tune in next time for "Husband Shopping" brought to you by your very own L.
Today Alice asked me to start blogging again, which brought back all the memories I had of keeping up a blog. I loved it. It became my way of relaxing, and yet a way that challenged me to become a more thoughtful and creative writer. Throughout my day I would try to catch funny and intriguing things that happened- all to benefit my oh so adoring fans.
I make no promises sticking to this. But then again, who is even reading this anyway? Perhaps I will just pretend- it is always more fun that way. As I close, I am already thinking of the topic of my next update. Please tune in next time for "Husband Shopping" brought to you by your very own L.
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