As mentioned, my counselor lead me through a session of Healing Prayer. At first, it was really difficult. I felt my mind go blank and I couldn't go anywhere.
Eventually, though, G-d brought me to my NICU in Small Town. The NICU where I find such comfort, such joy, such realization of my dream to care for babies coming true. I absolutely loved this NICU when I was there and I miss it so much!
Anyway, I was there, standing at the entrance to one of the NICU bays. I didn't go in, there was no baby there, but I was comfortable.
Then He then brought me to a dark place. There were no walls, it wasn't pitch black, and I was not scared. I was just there sitting with my eyes closed, still not scared. When my vision came back a little, I could see myself sitting there, in Yeshua's lap as a little child, and he was simply rocking me. My eyes were closed, I was comfortable. His eyes were closed, and His face was so serene and peaceful.
I remembered my time spent in the nursery at church, with the little 1-2 years olds, and little 3 year olds that experienced so much separation anxiety. I remember helping to start with a church startup. I worked the childcare, of course, as my whole life had prepared me for. I worked with the nursery of children up to 1 year old, and then the next class of children going up to about 3 years old. With each week, I learned the children's personalities, and how to help them the best. I remember this one little boy who rarely stayed in the class, because he would cry so hard that we would have to call his mom back most weeks within 10-15 minutes of him being dropped off. Week after week, I tried my best to pull out all of my tricks to comfort him, and then some. I wrote little sheets to help other volunteers know what tricks worked best with each child. Thinking back, I was writing up careplans at the age of 16, before I ever knew what a careplan was. Now it just seems to make sense to me, having been through nursing school and working as a nurse for the last couple of years.
This particular little boy finally settled down one day, in my arms. I sat with him, on my lap, with my hand bringing his head to my chest. I "shhhhhhh" over and over, while my hand supported the area around his sweet little ear. Eventually, he calmed down. I released my grip and he brought my hand back to the side of his face, to resume the comforting pressure.
When I saw myself sitting in Yeshua's lap, He was supporting my little face against His chest in this fashion. Finally, after being the comforter for so many babies, children, friends, and others, I was finally being comforted by The Comforter. I was supported, protected, cherished, and a source of joy for the One who loves me, made me, and has walked with me my whole life.
Shortly after, I saw myself with Him in an open field. I was a child, in a white dress, dancing and enjoying my time in a field of little white flowers. I spent time dancing around with Him and other time laying in the soft grass enjoying the warmth and peace of His presence. Everything was bright and beautiful and clean. I was white and pure and innocent. I was loved and secure in my knowledge that I am loved. I was joyful and able to enjoy time being carefree without a care in the world.
I thanked Him for my time with Him, for Him showing up to be with me, and for what He's shown me. I thanked Him for all of the healing He brought about in such a short period of time and for the joy He's reinstated in my life so quickly.
I still tear up at the memories of the White Robe and what He did for me in the Healing Prayer session. I had never experienced visions before, and I truly believe that is what I experienced in these moments.
Wednesday, March 28, 2018
My Vision of a White Robe
In thinking about what I've written lately, I realized that I mentioned my vision of the White Robe but I never told you guys the story!!! Well, this simply cannot be!
As I mentioned a couple of posts ago, I've been attending a Bible study. In this Bible study, we were going through Beth Moore's new study The Quest.
Y'all, this study is INTENSE! From the first week, I felt like I was physically wrestling with G-d. I sobbed for the first several weeks, struggled with much of the study, and yet continued on in the pages. At the Bible study class, I would cry during the videos, in a room full of about a hundred other women (and I don't like to cry in front of others). And then in small group, the weeping continued.
I was having such a difficult time! Many of the women were going through the study with no problems. They interpreted the questions far differently than I did. While the women were wearing smiles and having an "aaaaaaaaaahhh!" *angels singing* experience, I was roundabout ready to burn the book and take up my torch and pitchfork. I couldn't figure out why some people read these black and white questions so differently than I did. While some were asking "where were you G-d?" in a nice, calm, voice. I was demanding "WHERE WERE YOU G-D???!!!???"
In the second or third week, we were going through prayer requests, and I requested that the group pray for my healing. Honestly, I didn't know what I wanted healing from. I felt this voice tell me to ask the women in my group to pray for healing. Well, with nothing to lose, and the encouragement of my counselor to find community and consider vulnerability, I asked them to pray for healing for me. They didn't pry much about healing from what, sensing that I didn't want to share, but they prayed for me. I don't know if they continued on through the next couple of weeks, and they didn't ask if healing had occurred when I showed up to bible study two weeks later. Nobody bridged the subject until I brought it up weeks and weeks later.
A couple of days later I was at church worshipping. I sat on the opposite side of the sanctuary than I normally sit. I had my eyes closed and wasn't singing because I didn't know the song. However, I recall it had something to do with forgiveness and being clothed in white. Since I wasn't singing, I took to pouring out my heart to G-d, interjecting the song into my prayers. Suddenly, I was prostrated... rather, in the fetal position, dressed in dark gray/black rags, and in the dark. Yeshua (Jesus) walked over to me and helped me up. then, in His hands, he held a pure white robe. He handed this to me and suddenly I was dressed in white. I was no longer dragged down by the shame, pain, and heaviness that has burdened my being for years. I was lighter. I was clean. I was forgiven.
I am forgiven.
Days later, I was working on my Bible study again, and it discussed one of the most important verses/scenes in the Bible to me since becoming Messianic. This portion of the Bible is where G-d comes to Peter in a vision in Acts 10, starting at verse 9. Peter was traveling (somewhere, I don't know where) and he was hungry. I imagine him being faint and probably either hangry, or so hungry that he's way past being hangry. Anyway, G-d shows him this vision of a blanket filled with tons of unkosher, unclean animals. Along with that, G-d tells Peter to "get up, kill, and eat". Peter almost loses it! He says "absolutely not!" (paraphrased). G-d tells Peter not to call anything unclean that which He has made clean (paraphrased from Acts 10:15 NIV). This conversation happens 3 times before the vision ends.
When learning Messianic traditions and views, this verse is used often. Some people use it to say that Gentiles and non-Jews are to be accepted and welcomed freely into the Jewish/Messianic faith. Others take it a little more literally and take it to mean that it's okay to eat bacon, lobster, and whatever other "un-kosher" foods they wish to eat. Others reference it when debating the need to circumcise males or not. For me, when G-d brought this verse back to my attention, it was a very real proclamation that I am clean, forgiven, accepted, and loved by the only One that can see my whole past and my whole heart and still proclaim true judgement over my life.
He calls me clean.
After the vision of my White Robe, I cried. I sobbed in the middle of worship. Those sitting next to me might have looked my way, but I didn't notice. They did give me weird glances when we all had to get to the weird meet-and-greet part of service that seems to be so common in churches between worship and the sermon. But I didn't even care because the junk that has plagued my life for most of my life has been forgiven and taken upon the L-rd. He took my burdens and replaced my heavy yolk with His own light one.
I've come to understand suffering. I know there is much more suffering in the world, much worse than mine. However, I understand feeling dirty, unacceptable, and unloveable. From struggles and troubles I've had my whole life, to the shame and guilt I experienced after all of my sexual abuse and best friend's incidence with me. In mere moments, a simple vision with Yeshua, He took it all away. I struggle with memories now, but it is nothing like living in the thick of suffering that I have been living in for so long. I literally feel lighter and not so run-down.
A week or two later, my counselor and I did a session of Healing Prayer. That too was intense. But that is a story for another post.
Much love,
BA
As I mentioned a couple of posts ago, I've been attending a Bible study. In this Bible study, we were going through Beth Moore's new study The Quest.
Y'all, this study is INTENSE! From the first week, I felt like I was physically wrestling with G-d. I sobbed for the first several weeks, struggled with much of the study, and yet continued on in the pages. At the Bible study class, I would cry during the videos, in a room full of about a hundred other women (and I don't like to cry in front of others). And then in small group, the weeping continued.
I was having such a difficult time! Many of the women were going through the study with no problems. They interpreted the questions far differently than I did. While the women were wearing smiles and having an "aaaaaaaaaahhh!" *angels singing* experience, I was roundabout ready to burn the book and take up my torch and pitchfork. I couldn't figure out why some people read these black and white questions so differently than I did. While some were asking "where were you G-d?" in a nice, calm, voice. I was demanding "WHERE WERE YOU G-D???!!!???"
In the second or third week, we were going through prayer requests, and I requested that the group pray for my healing. Honestly, I didn't know what I wanted healing from. I felt this voice tell me to ask the women in my group to pray for healing. Well, with nothing to lose, and the encouragement of my counselor to find community and consider vulnerability, I asked them to pray for healing for me. They didn't pry much about healing from what, sensing that I didn't want to share, but they prayed for me. I don't know if they continued on through the next couple of weeks, and they didn't ask if healing had occurred when I showed up to bible study two weeks later. Nobody bridged the subject until I brought it up weeks and weeks later.
A couple of days later I was at church worshipping. I sat on the opposite side of the sanctuary than I normally sit. I had my eyes closed and wasn't singing because I didn't know the song. However, I recall it had something to do with forgiveness and being clothed in white. Since I wasn't singing, I took to pouring out my heart to G-d, interjecting the song into my prayers. Suddenly, I was prostrated... rather, in the fetal position, dressed in dark gray/black rags, and in the dark. Yeshua (Jesus) walked over to me and helped me up. then, in His hands, he held a pure white robe. He handed this to me and suddenly I was dressed in white. I was no longer dragged down by the shame, pain, and heaviness that has burdened my being for years. I was lighter. I was clean. I was forgiven.
I am forgiven.
Days later, I was working on my Bible study again, and it discussed one of the most important verses/scenes in the Bible to me since becoming Messianic. This portion of the Bible is where G-d comes to Peter in a vision in Acts 10, starting at verse 9. Peter was traveling (somewhere, I don't know where) and he was hungry. I imagine him being faint and probably either hangry, or so hungry that he's way past being hangry. Anyway, G-d shows him this vision of a blanket filled with tons of unkosher, unclean animals. Along with that, G-d tells Peter to "get up, kill, and eat". Peter almost loses it! He says "absolutely not!" (paraphrased). G-d tells Peter not to call anything unclean that which He has made clean (paraphrased from Acts 10:15 NIV). This conversation happens 3 times before the vision ends.
When learning Messianic traditions and views, this verse is used often. Some people use it to say that Gentiles and non-Jews are to be accepted and welcomed freely into the Jewish/Messianic faith. Others take it a little more literally and take it to mean that it's okay to eat bacon, lobster, and whatever other "un-kosher" foods they wish to eat. Others reference it when debating the need to circumcise males or not. For me, when G-d brought this verse back to my attention, it was a very real proclamation that I am clean, forgiven, accepted, and loved by the only One that can see my whole past and my whole heart and still proclaim true judgement over my life.
He calls me clean.
After the vision of my White Robe, I cried. I sobbed in the middle of worship. Those sitting next to me might have looked my way, but I didn't notice. They did give me weird glances when we all had to get to the weird meet-and-greet part of service that seems to be so common in churches between worship and the sermon. But I didn't even care because the junk that has plagued my life for most of my life has been forgiven and taken upon the L-rd. He took my burdens and replaced my heavy yolk with His own light one.
I've come to understand suffering. I know there is much more suffering in the world, much worse than mine. However, I understand feeling dirty, unacceptable, and unloveable. From struggles and troubles I've had my whole life, to the shame and guilt I experienced after all of my sexual abuse and best friend's incidence with me. In mere moments, a simple vision with Yeshua, He took it all away. I struggle with memories now, but it is nothing like living in the thick of suffering that I have been living in for so long. I literally feel lighter and not so run-down.
A week or two later, my counselor and I did a session of Healing Prayer. That too was intense. But that is a story for another post.
Much love,
BA
Friday, March 23, 2018
I Thought Life Would Look Different
I turn 24 in approximately 10 days.
You guys know, I don't like birthdays. I'm not a huge fan of the extra attention, looking back on yet another year that has come and gone, nor remembering how much I had planned to do before getting to this point.
When I was younger, I had hoped to at least be married by now. But, I'm solidly single. I've been single for several years now, and no prospects of that changing any time in the near future.
I had hoped to be in Small Town; learning more, training new staff, and working up the career ladder there.
I had hoped to be accepted into graduate school and working towards furthering my education.
Naively, I had also hoped to have started having kids by now. I want to be a young mom, but I watch those years go and go and go.
I know, I'll only be 24. Someday I will look back and remember how foolish I was for wanting to pile on all of the adult responsibilities at the same time, but I'm feeling impatient. I'm thinking of the ways that a marriage would benefit me for housing, companionship, and general support in the simplicities of life.
Then again, I begin thinking of how difficult relationships are... You have to share in a marriage. Share a kitchen, a bathroom, a house, a bed, and your life with another person. This other person was raised differently than you. Sure, you may love them, but everything that they have come from is different than what you came from. Different family dynamics, different expectations, different bedtime routines, different views on life, different food/cooking preferences, and different ideas of how marriage is supposed to work.
As if that weren't enough, you have to share your day with them. Share thoughts, feelings, and emotions and try to continue to connect with them... every day.
And, if that all doesn't have your feathers ruffled, you're supposed to share your body with them as well?
I know, I know. Here's yet ANOTHER stinking post about how stupid trauma has effected my life and how I am sad about what it's done. I should be able to just get over it eventually, right? Didn't that time that I should have been over it come and go? Shouldn't I be moving on? Finding joy? Starting life over and hoping for the best?
Well, kind of. I guess I'm still mourning. I'm mourning the loss of what was stolen from me. I'm mourning for the dreams that I killed and buried all those years ago. I'm mourning the years of life stolen from me, as I have been climbing my way out of a deep, deep pit I was forced into. I'm mourning the life that cannot be, the goals that cannot be fulfilled, and the plans that I had.
G-d has different plans, better plans than I could ever imagine. He's got plans that will hopefully make a beautiful tapestry out of the tangled ends that I have come to. He's got plans that are so far beyond my comprehension, that I will never understand them.
However, I'm allowing myself to mourn this anniversary of life.
3 years ago, I came to this season with excitement, but low expectations, for my 21st birthday. I decided to celebrate my birthday that year and tell some people. I decided to allow people to make a big deal about me. 3 weeks later, my life came to a screeching halt. I had innocence forcefully torn from me. I was held down and my pleading was ignored. Unthinkable things were done to me and it put my life on pause. For 3 years, I have been stuck in survival mode. I am beginning to break free and start to live again. However, I have lost 3 years of my life, completely. Sure, I graduated, worked, and G-d brought me through. But I didn't live.
In 7 days marks the 4th anniversary of Country Boy's death by suicide. It, in itself, was highly traumatizing for me. Upon that loss, the trauma has continued to pile on. That loss started the Complex in the Complex PTSD. He was 19. Didn't even make it until he was 20. He didn't wait until he was 21. He carried a lot of grief and pain with him. It crushed him. I still remember the pain in his eyes. The hope he had that someone else understood his grief when we started talking about death on that little date at the Starbucks in Target. I made up some crap story, but deep inside, I wanted to tell him of my struggles with suicidal thoughts too. It never occurred to me that other people struggled with it too! I didn't want to bring him down on our mini date! I didn't want to burden him with more grief and worry than he already had.
You see, I shouldn't be older than 19, in my head. I "functioned" from 19 to 21, but L-rd knows I wasn't living. My life slowed down with the death of Country Boy. At the moment of my first assault with exboyfriend, my life came to a standstill. Time with exfiance was spent fighting to breath another day, and continued to stand still.
So now, I get to my 24th birthday feeling like a failure. Where has my life gone?
You guys know, I don't like birthdays. I'm not a huge fan of the extra attention, looking back on yet another year that has come and gone, nor remembering how much I had planned to do before getting to this point.
When I was younger, I had hoped to at least be married by now. But, I'm solidly single. I've been single for several years now, and no prospects of that changing any time in the near future.
I had hoped to be in Small Town; learning more, training new staff, and working up the career ladder there.
I had hoped to be accepted into graduate school and working towards furthering my education.
Naively, I had also hoped to have started having kids by now. I want to be a young mom, but I watch those years go and go and go.
I know, I'll only be 24. Someday I will look back and remember how foolish I was for wanting to pile on all of the adult responsibilities at the same time, but I'm feeling impatient. I'm thinking of the ways that a marriage would benefit me for housing, companionship, and general support in the simplicities of life.
Then again, I begin thinking of how difficult relationships are... You have to share in a marriage. Share a kitchen, a bathroom, a house, a bed, and your life with another person. This other person was raised differently than you. Sure, you may love them, but everything that they have come from is different than what you came from. Different family dynamics, different expectations, different bedtime routines, different views on life, different food/cooking preferences, and different ideas of how marriage is supposed to work.
As if that weren't enough, you have to share your day with them. Share thoughts, feelings, and emotions and try to continue to connect with them... every day.
And, if that all doesn't have your feathers ruffled, you're supposed to share your body with them as well?
I know, I know. Here's yet ANOTHER stinking post about how stupid trauma has effected my life and how I am sad about what it's done. I should be able to just get over it eventually, right? Didn't that time that I should have been over it come and go? Shouldn't I be moving on? Finding joy? Starting life over and hoping for the best?
Well, kind of. I guess I'm still mourning. I'm mourning the loss of what was stolen from me. I'm mourning for the dreams that I killed and buried all those years ago. I'm mourning the years of life stolen from me, as I have been climbing my way out of a deep, deep pit I was forced into. I'm mourning the life that cannot be, the goals that cannot be fulfilled, and the plans that I had.
G-d has different plans, better plans than I could ever imagine. He's got plans that will hopefully make a beautiful tapestry out of the tangled ends that I have come to. He's got plans that are so far beyond my comprehension, that I will never understand them.
However, I'm allowing myself to mourn this anniversary of life.
3 years ago, I came to this season with excitement, but low expectations, for my 21st birthday. I decided to celebrate my birthday that year and tell some people. I decided to allow people to make a big deal about me. 3 weeks later, my life came to a screeching halt. I had innocence forcefully torn from me. I was held down and my pleading was ignored. Unthinkable things were done to me and it put my life on pause. For 3 years, I have been stuck in survival mode. I am beginning to break free and start to live again. However, I have lost 3 years of my life, completely. Sure, I graduated, worked, and G-d brought me through. But I didn't live.
In 7 days marks the 4th anniversary of Country Boy's death by suicide. It, in itself, was highly traumatizing for me. Upon that loss, the trauma has continued to pile on. That loss started the Complex in the Complex PTSD. He was 19. Didn't even make it until he was 20. He didn't wait until he was 21. He carried a lot of grief and pain with him. It crushed him. I still remember the pain in his eyes. The hope he had that someone else understood his grief when we started talking about death on that little date at the Starbucks in Target. I made up some crap story, but deep inside, I wanted to tell him of my struggles with suicidal thoughts too. It never occurred to me that other people struggled with it too! I didn't want to bring him down on our mini date! I didn't want to burden him with more grief and worry than he already had.
You see, I shouldn't be older than 19, in my head. I "functioned" from 19 to 21, but L-rd knows I wasn't living. My life slowed down with the death of Country Boy. At the moment of my first assault with exboyfriend, my life came to a standstill. Time with exfiance was spent fighting to breath another day, and continued to stand still.
So now, I get to my 24th birthday feeling like a failure. Where has my life gone?
New Steps
Tonight I went to a friend's house. This sweet girl is a girl I work with. She is incredibly kind and friendly and everybody loves her.
I spent the night, just talking with her. Not talking of things of much consequence, and another friend from work stopped by, but I left feeling slightly more filled. I wonder how she does that. She knows she is able to build people up in the things she does and says, and I don't understand how it is that she is able to do such a thing, while being conscious of it, and still remaining humble. I like it. I'm a little jealous that it's not something that I really do, but I'm glad that she is able to do that for others.
I'm still working on figuring out the gifts G-d's given me. It might be closer to a mentoring role than me being charismatic and friends with everyone...
In related/unrelated news, this week in counseling I didn't cry. I normally do, to the point of it being concerning how much I cry. So, to walk out with a smile on my face, and to do more giggling than sniffing, was a great day.
My sweet counselor said some things that really made me start thinking. I had mentioned to her that I wanted to start mentoring middle school and high school aged girls. I also keep mentioning to her when I feel the L-rd is nudging me to share my story, or teach a bible study, or step back from a different bible study... and she prayerfully encourages me and we process what I think I'm being led to do, against what might be me trying to regress or avoid. She's wonderful and I am so grateful to have someone that is able to know my back story, who has faith to be able to guide me in things of faith, and all the while she is teaching me how to process life and G-d for when I might not be in counseling with her anymore.
So, I told her I felt like I wanted to mentor teens/young adults. Through the course of the conversation, she mentioned that she's thought about having me teach the Sexual Trauma Support Group (that I am presently in) with her, in the future. Now, I don't know if it will be a thing that ever actually works out, but I don't think that she's lying about that thought crossing her mind. My whole life I have believed that I have nothing to say, nothing to contribute. However, in the few times that I find myself contributing, people around me come back later (usually after knowing me for a few years) and they mention how quiet and reserved I am, but how deep and insightful my words tend to be.
I'm starting to believe them.
Who knows? Maybe one day I will teach a bible study. Maybe one day I will teach a kid's class, a middle/high school sermon, or perhaps even nursing students (eventually?). Perhaps, someday, I might have something worth saying to teach people. For right now, I am just working on walking beside them and sharing little snippets from my short 23 (almost 24) years on this earth.
I spent the night, just talking with her. Not talking of things of much consequence, and another friend from work stopped by, but I left feeling slightly more filled. I wonder how she does that. She knows she is able to build people up in the things she does and says, and I don't understand how it is that she is able to do such a thing, while being conscious of it, and still remaining humble. I like it. I'm a little jealous that it's not something that I really do, but I'm glad that she is able to do that for others.
I'm still working on figuring out the gifts G-d's given me. It might be closer to a mentoring role than me being charismatic and friends with everyone...
In related/unrelated news, this week in counseling I didn't cry. I normally do, to the point of it being concerning how much I cry. So, to walk out with a smile on my face, and to do more giggling than sniffing, was a great day.
My sweet counselor said some things that really made me start thinking. I had mentioned to her that I wanted to start mentoring middle school and high school aged girls. I also keep mentioning to her when I feel the L-rd is nudging me to share my story, or teach a bible study, or step back from a different bible study... and she prayerfully encourages me and we process what I think I'm being led to do, against what might be me trying to regress or avoid. She's wonderful and I am so grateful to have someone that is able to know my back story, who has faith to be able to guide me in things of faith, and all the while she is teaching me how to process life and G-d for when I might not be in counseling with her anymore.
So, I told her I felt like I wanted to mentor teens/young adults. Through the course of the conversation, she mentioned that she's thought about having me teach the Sexual Trauma Support Group (that I am presently in) with her, in the future. Now, I don't know if it will be a thing that ever actually works out, but I don't think that she's lying about that thought crossing her mind. My whole life I have believed that I have nothing to say, nothing to contribute. However, in the few times that I find myself contributing, people around me come back later (usually after knowing me for a few years) and they mention how quiet and reserved I am, but how deep and insightful my words tend to be.
I'm starting to believe them.
Who knows? Maybe one day I will teach a bible study. Maybe one day I will teach a kid's class, a middle/high school sermon, or perhaps even nursing students (eventually?). Perhaps, someday, I might have something worth saying to teach people. For right now, I am just working on walking beside them and sharing little snippets from my short 23 (almost 24) years on this earth.
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
Bible Studies
Bible studies are supposed to be feel-good experiences, right? Times in life where you can go, connect with believers in your church/congregations, and learn about G-d. Am I right in this? Or are these just thoughts coming from left field?
Maybe I'm just one of the few that have found bible studies that have caused me to question many things that have held fast as "truths" in my life. I've been a part of a couple of studies now, that have shaken me thoroughly. All for good, but it's been a rough ride, nonetheless.
I've wrestled with G-d. I've sobbed uncontrollably. I've begun to hope for a fresh start and a newness in my walk. Most of all, I've discovered that many of the "truths" I've learned throughout my life have been nothing more than deep seated lies that I, unfortunately, clung to because it was all I had.
Bible study #1: The Quest: An Excursion Toward Intimacy with God - by Beth Moore
Bible study #2: Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed: A Study of David - by Priscilla Shirer, Beth Moore, and Kay Arthur
Bible study #3: Surprised by the Healer: Embracing Hope for Your Broken Story - by Linda Dillow and Dr. Juli Slattery
First off, I'm still in the middle of bible study #2 and just started #3 last week (I got the book today). All I can say is oh. my. goodness.
Y'all, I read Surprised by the Healer all today! It's composed of 9 women's stories of sexual brokenness, of one type or another, and I could not read it fast enough. I plumb gobbled it up! It took me all of about 5.5 hours to complete, with bathroom and Facebook breaks (because these stories are all intense), and I completed it all in an evening. Granted, there is a bible study with questions that is at the end of the book, that I haven't started on, but I read all of the stories through.
The Quest had me wrestling, sobbing, yelling, angry, and fighting to come closer to G-d. He broke down walls, let me have my tantrums, but He didn't let me stay there in the anger. My ladies at bible study prayed for healing for me after the second or third week of me going to my counselor overwhelmed, and He started healing me in more tangible ways. The ladies didn't know what I needed healing from. They initially didn't know how He had healed me when I came back thanking them for praying. Last week, for the first time, I shared a bit more of my story with them and He extended even more healing to me through that. This bible study is the exact bible study I needed at this time in my life. It wouldn't have helped any earlier, and L-rd knows I needed to not wait any longer. It is the beginning of a season of true healing and grace for me, and it is still difficult, but the lines of communication are no longer muffled between the Good L-rd and I (muffled because of walls I put up, obviously He doesn't put up walls!)
Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed is a study I am still working through. G-d is allowing me to take a deeper look at the life of David, and the mistakes he made, while also seeing why he was called "a man after G-d's own heart". As mentioned in the study, "not all devastation begins with sin" (slight paraphrase because the "quote" was solely based on my limited memory). G-d brings us through pain and tribulation that is sometimes a result of sin, but sometimes it's simply a result of other people choosing evil and you just so happen to be the one that gets hurt. L-rd knows I've sinned a lot in my life, but sometimes, not every bad thing that happens to me is my fault. I didn't deserve the assaults, the rape, the abuse, the problems. I didn't ask for them and I certainly didn't make anyone hurt me the way that they did. Unfortunately, I was unable to make better choices to prevent these things from happening, but I was also not well equipped, and so I'm struggling to show myself grace for fighting with my limited defense choices.
Folks, these bible studies have allowed G-d to awaken a deep desire to know Him that has been hidden away for years. Surprised by the Healer mentions that pain can be a good thing. Pain can allow you to come to the end of yourself, to let you understand brokenness so that you can actually understand healing and love. Pain can knock you out of your rut, your routine "religious/Christian/perfect/faith-filled" life into a life of true faith, true intimacy with G-d, and true devotion. Only when you have experienced pain can you truly understand why it is that you need G-d and how He provides for you. Intimacy is something I so crave; from friends, relationships, family, G-d. I don't like the surface-level questions and answers. When I ask how you are, I want to know how you are. I want to know your struggles, your joys, your real-life miracles. I want to be able to see how G-d is working in your life, and how you have been able to overcome the unthinkable. I want to have in-depth discussions of what G-d is speaking to you about, what He is showing you in the Word, and how you are applying that to your life. I want to be able to walk beside you in life and be able to glean wisdom from your life, and you can maybe glean some wisdom from mine. I want the kind of intimacy where G-d comes and sits at the coffee table with us, and infuses our time with the highest of highs, because He is walking with us and letting us learn through our lows.
I'm so sick of talking about clothes, the weather, if I'm dating anyone right now, and how my family is.
I want to know people.
I want people to know me.
I just want to know that the struggles I've faced were not faced in vain and alone. I want to know that come kind of good can come from the pain I've experienced. I want to know that my story has either prevented someone else from experiencing the same things I have, or that my story is able to bring comfort and healing to someone who has already walked through something similar.
I want to know that this is not all for nothing. That something good can come from this mess.
I want to know that I will not die, keeping secrets buried with me, that could have helped someone. Anyone. Even if it's a single person, in the entirety of time, at least it was of benefit to them.
I need to know that there is something more to all of this suffering. And my story is not even close to being the worst I've read or heard from others!!!
How can I be used to help in healing others? I haven't experienced the worst of pains, but the pain I have is the worst I've survived. How am I supposed to be able to speak life into others? How can my life be used to bring any comfort or support to someone else? How can G-d use a little baby nurse to do His work?
I feel absolutely inadequate to do much of anything. I don't even know how to keep friends for any length of time because I push them away or I attracted the types of people that only hang out with me while I am beneficial to them. How is that supposed to be any help if relationships aren't my strong suit? Don't even get me started on dating or marriage!!!
I want G-d to use my story, my life. I just can't imagine how He'll do it.
And yet, I feel called to something bigger.
Maybe I'm just one of the few that have found bible studies that have caused me to question many things that have held fast as "truths" in my life. I've been a part of a couple of studies now, that have shaken me thoroughly. All for good, but it's been a rough ride, nonetheless.
I've wrestled with G-d. I've sobbed uncontrollably. I've begun to hope for a fresh start and a newness in my walk. Most of all, I've discovered that many of the "truths" I've learned throughout my life have been nothing more than deep seated lies that I, unfortunately, clung to because it was all I had.
Bible study #1: The Quest: An Excursion Toward Intimacy with God - by Beth Moore
Bible study #2: Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed: A Study of David - by Priscilla Shirer, Beth Moore, and Kay Arthur
Bible study #3: Surprised by the Healer: Embracing Hope for Your Broken Story - by Linda Dillow and Dr. Juli Slattery
First off, I'm still in the middle of bible study #2 and just started #3 last week (I got the book today). All I can say is oh. my. goodness.
Y'all, I read Surprised by the Healer all today! It's composed of 9 women's stories of sexual brokenness, of one type or another, and I could not read it fast enough. I plumb gobbled it up! It took me all of about 5.5 hours to complete, with bathroom and Facebook breaks (because these stories are all intense), and I completed it all in an evening. Granted, there is a bible study with questions that is at the end of the book, that I haven't started on, but I read all of the stories through.
The Quest had me wrestling, sobbing, yelling, angry, and fighting to come closer to G-d. He broke down walls, let me have my tantrums, but He didn't let me stay there in the anger. My ladies at bible study prayed for healing for me after the second or third week of me going to my counselor overwhelmed, and He started healing me in more tangible ways. The ladies didn't know what I needed healing from. They initially didn't know how He had healed me when I came back thanking them for praying. Last week, for the first time, I shared a bit more of my story with them and He extended even more healing to me through that. This bible study is the exact bible study I needed at this time in my life. It wouldn't have helped any earlier, and L-rd knows I needed to not wait any longer. It is the beginning of a season of true healing and grace for me, and it is still difficult, but the lines of communication are no longer muffled between the Good L-rd and I (muffled because of walls I put up, obviously He doesn't put up walls!)
Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed is a study I am still working through. G-d is allowing me to take a deeper look at the life of David, and the mistakes he made, while also seeing why he was called "a man after G-d's own heart". As mentioned in the study, "not all devastation begins with sin" (slight paraphrase because the "quote" was solely based on my limited memory). G-d brings us through pain and tribulation that is sometimes a result of sin, but sometimes it's simply a result of other people choosing evil and you just so happen to be the one that gets hurt. L-rd knows I've sinned a lot in my life, but sometimes, not every bad thing that happens to me is my fault. I didn't deserve the assaults, the rape, the abuse, the problems. I didn't ask for them and I certainly didn't make anyone hurt me the way that they did. Unfortunately, I was unable to make better choices to prevent these things from happening, but I was also not well equipped, and so I'm struggling to show myself grace for fighting with my limited defense choices.
Folks, these bible studies have allowed G-d to awaken a deep desire to know Him that has been hidden away for years. Surprised by the Healer mentions that pain can be a good thing. Pain can allow you to come to the end of yourself, to let you understand brokenness so that you can actually understand healing and love. Pain can knock you out of your rut, your routine "religious/Christian/perfect/faith-filled" life into a life of true faith, true intimacy with G-d, and true devotion. Only when you have experienced pain can you truly understand why it is that you need G-d and how He provides for you. Intimacy is something I so crave; from friends, relationships, family, G-d. I don't like the surface-level questions and answers. When I ask how you are, I want to know how you are. I want to know your struggles, your joys, your real-life miracles. I want to be able to see how G-d is working in your life, and how you have been able to overcome the unthinkable. I want to have in-depth discussions of what G-d is speaking to you about, what He is showing you in the Word, and how you are applying that to your life. I want to be able to walk beside you in life and be able to glean wisdom from your life, and you can maybe glean some wisdom from mine. I want the kind of intimacy where G-d comes and sits at the coffee table with us, and infuses our time with the highest of highs, because He is walking with us and letting us learn through our lows.
I'm so sick of talking about clothes, the weather, if I'm dating anyone right now, and how my family is.
I want to know people.
I want people to know me.
I just want to know that the struggles I've faced were not faced in vain and alone. I want to know that come kind of good can come from the pain I've experienced. I want to know that my story has either prevented someone else from experiencing the same things I have, or that my story is able to bring comfort and healing to someone who has already walked through something similar.
I want to know that this is not all for nothing. That something good can come from this mess.
I want to know that I will not die, keeping secrets buried with me, that could have helped someone. Anyone. Even if it's a single person, in the entirety of time, at least it was of benefit to them.
I need to know that there is something more to all of this suffering. And my story is not even close to being the worst I've read or heard from others!!!
How can I be used to help in healing others? I haven't experienced the worst of pains, but the pain I have is the worst I've survived. How am I supposed to be able to speak life into others? How can my life be used to bring any comfort or support to someone else? How can G-d use a little baby nurse to do His work?
I feel absolutely inadequate to do much of anything. I don't even know how to keep friends for any length of time because I push them away or I attracted the types of people that only hang out with me while I am beneficial to them. How is that supposed to be any help if relationships aren't my strong suit? Don't even get me started on dating or marriage!!!
I want G-d to use my story, my life. I just can't imagine how He'll do it.
And yet, I feel called to something bigger.
Friday, March 16, 2018
Sharing My Story
This is not the post where I will share my story. However, I am recounting to you, how I did share it... yesterday.
Every Thursday, I go to bible study at a local church. This is not the church I regularly attend, but it is one I have tried a couple times through college, and so I am not afraid to go, I'm just not a regular. A few months ago, I decided I wanted to start going to a bible study, and I searched many churches in town. This particular church was going to be starting a fresh "semester" in a few weeks and I knew that many of the ladies I work with went there. So, I started asking around and one lady from work told me she had been thinking about going to this study. We agreed to start together and it's been wonderful! She and I are not in the same small group within the bible study, and that is okay. It's nice just knowing that she is there and to be able to see her every once in a while.
Last week, during bible study, I felt that G-d was speaking to me that I would be sharing my story this week. Yes, I scoffed at Him a little bit, but I also told Him that if He would lead me and give me the words, I would go. If you have read a few posts ago, I felt as though G-d has been telling me to get ready to begin sharing it. I, of course, met Him with questions and slight trepidation that He won't just tell me when, where, how, who, or what. Alas, that is not how He often operates with me.
This week, I was sitting through the video and, again, clear as day I heard Him tell me I was going to share "today" (that was yesterday). The video ended, we broke into our small groups, and we shared prayer requests and prayed, as usual. When we got to talking about this week's study, one lady (who I have so appreciated because she shared her story with us) began to talk about this week's study and what it has meant to her. Then He told me to share. It was related to what she was talking about, so I branched off of that. I began talking, my lip started to quiver, tears filled my eyes, but I kept talking. As I continued, I began to cry, which I have a very difficult time doing in front of others, but I continued on. When I finished (I only talked for less than 5 minutes), I was all but sobbing and the leader of the group and the lady that I have come to so appreciate for her story, they both came up and hugged me. Of course, this lead to more crying, the kind where you can't breathe anymore.
When I came to and got better use of my vision, I noticed many of the women were crying right along with me. They were hurting for the pain I've been experiencing for so long. They were hurting for a young lady, with so much life before her, having been hurt at a fairly young age. They encouraged me, thanked me for sharing, and praised the L-rd that when they came together and asked for healing for me several week prior, that He answered the prayers so immediately and I was now able to share with them the results. I was able to share with them my vision of the White Robe and the verse when G-d told Peter to kill and eat. Peter resisted, because these animals were un-kosher and "unclean". 3 times G-d told him to eat, and 3 times Peter resisted. Then, G-d told Peter to "not call unclean, that which I have called clean." This scene also came to my mind, with the White Robe vision, and I finally accepted that I have been made clean. That I have been forgiven. That I am untarnished, not wasted, and more precious than anyone could ever understand, to the One who made me and continues to carry me.
After telling my story (in very little detail, mostly just that I have been abused and have C-PTSD), these women I have come to care for so deeply (at an arms length, of course) did not shun me, forsake me, nor break my heart with faces that showed their broken hearts. Instead, I saw in them a sense of understanding in my bible study responses and prayer requests, as well as an appreciation for how far I have come in such a short time. They watched me go from reserved, to angry, to struggling internally, to excited at sudden healing, to now. Now, I am in a place of battle, but much less wearisome. I am in a place where I am hearing G-d speak so clearly to me, that I need to share and help other girls, ladies, women, people, through the turbulence of surviving sexual assault and abuse. I don't know how, who, where, when, or what, but I know that I have been called clearly.
This is the first time, since I was in middle school and committed myself to G-d, that I have been able to hear Him this clearly. I don't want this to stop. I feel like I have had ear plugs in for year and I could hear Him faintly, but now I've taken them out and can hear Him so much better. Praise the L-rd.
'Til next time, friends.
Every Thursday, I go to bible study at a local church. This is not the church I regularly attend, but it is one I have tried a couple times through college, and so I am not afraid to go, I'm just not a regular. A few months ago, I decided I wanted to start going to a bible study, and I searched many churches in town. This particular church was going to be starting a fresh "semester" in a few weeks and I knew that many of the ladies I work with went there. So, I started asking around and one lady from work told me she had been thinking about going to this study. We agreed to start together and it's been wonderful! She and I are not in the same small group within the bible study, and that is okay. It's nice just knowing that she is there and to be able to see her every once in a while.
Last week, during bible study, I felt that G-d was speaking to me that I would be sharing my story this week. Yes, I scoffed at Him a little bit, but I also told Him that if He would lead me and give me the words, I would go. If you have read a few posts ago, I felt as though G-d has been telling me to get ready to begin sharing it. I, of course, met Him with questions and slight trepidation that He won't just tell me when, where, how, who, or what. Alas, that is not how He often operates with me.
This week, I was sitting through the video and, again, clear as day I heard Him tell me I was going to share "today" (that was yesterday). The video ended, we broke into our small groups, and we shared prayer requests and prayed, as usual. When we got to talking about this week's study, one lady (who I have so appreciated because she shared her story with us) began to talk about this week's study and what it has meant to her. Then He told me to share. It was related to what she was talking about, so I branched off of that. I began talking, my lip started to quiver, tears filled my eyes, but I kept talking. As I continued, I began to cry, which I have a very difficult time doing in front of others, but I continued on. When I finished (I only talked for less than 5 minutes), I was all but sobbing and the leader of the group and the lady that I have come to so appreciate for her story, they both came up and hugged me. Of course, this lead to more crying, the kind where you can't breathe anymore.
When I came to and got better use of my vision, I noticed many of the women were crying right along with me. They were hurting for the pain I've been experiencing for so long. They were hurting for a young lady, with so much life before her, having been hurt at a fairly young age. They encouraged me, thanked me for sharing, and praised the L-rd that when they came together and asked for healing for me several week prior, that He answered the prayers so immediately and I was now able to share with them the results. I was able to share with them my vision of the White Robe and the verse when G-d told Peter to kill and eat. Peter resisted, because these animals were un-kosher and "unclean". 3 times G-d told him to eat, and 3 times Peter resisted. Then, G-d told Peter to "not call unclean, that which I have called clean." This scene also came to my mind, with the White Robe vision, and I finally accepted that I have been made clean. That I have been forgiven. That I am untarnished, not wasted, and more precious than anyone could ever understand, to the One who made me and continues to carry me.
After telling my story (in very little detail, mostly just that I have been abused and have C-PTSD), these women I have come to care for so deeply (at an arms length, of course) did not shun me, forsake me, nor break my heart with faces that showed their broken hearts. Instead, I saw in them a sense of understanding in my bible study responses and prayer requests, as well as an appreciation for how far I have come in such a short time. They watched me go from reserved, to angry, to struggling internally, to excited at sudden healing, to now. Now, I am in a place of battle, but much less wearisome. I am in a place where I am hearing G-d speak so clearly to me, that I need to share and help other girls, ladies, women, people, through the turbulence of surviving sexual assault and abuse. I don't know how, who, where, when, or what, but I know that I have been called clearly.
This is the first time, since I was in middle school and committed myself to G-d, that I have been able to hear Him this clearly. I don't want this to stop. I feel like I have had ear plugs in for year and I could hear Him faintly, but now I've taken them out and can hear Him so much better. Praise the L-rd.
'Til next time, friends.
Wednesday, March 14, 2018
Chicago
I recently got the opportunity to go with Big Red (a very petite little redhead) and Beauty to Chicago. They are friends from nursing school that have now moved away from College Town and we decided to go be adventurous.
For those that may/may not know, I love the Divergent series and the Hunger Games series. These movies had just released their first movies when I was newly going through the after effects of my first sexual assault from exboyfriend and the problems following Country Boy's suicide.
At first, I could not handle these movies. They are intense. Divergent has a scene where Tris is attacked by 3 guys who attempt to throw her into this cavern to her death. Tris also experiences the aftermath of a friend committing suicide.
After a couple of tries of watching the movies (yes, it took me multiple times of watching a few minutes at a time before I could get through the movies. However, once I got through them, I began to watch them over and over. I felt comforted by them, but could not peg why such dark movies meant so much to me and were able to comfort me so well.
After months and months of thinking about it, I came to this conclusion: I felt like Tris and Katniss.
They were experiencing constant war; I was fighting an epic battle of my own. They were outcasts with something to fight for; I too felt like an outcast with things to do in my life and something to fight for. They experienced much heartache, trauma, and flashbacks; sound familiar to anything I have written about? These young women survived, against all odds, terrible circumstances. I survived a friend's suicide, multiple sexual assaults/rapes, self harm, suicide attempts, domestic violence, loss of friends, college (against all odds, and nursing school was difficult without the addition of my PTSD), and yet I continued on.
When Big Red first suggested taking a trip, I didn't want to go. I didn't want to spend the money and go be triggered for a solid 4 days with no relief (as I knew would happen). I didn't want to do anything. It was proposed in one of my seasons of depression and exhaustion. Working two jobs, navigating the ups and downs associated with getting into counseling again, and struggling with friendships that had had their ups and downs that I still haven't fully healed from.
Eventually I agreed to go. One night I got this sudden wander lust and one of my bucket list destinations just so happened to be Chicago. Big Red had suggested 2 places and I immediately jumped on the "Chicago train". As we proceeded to plan, buy tickets, and get things in order, I realized (slowly) that Chicago is where the Divergent stories took place!
We started picking places we wanted to go and I chose the John Hancock Building (360 Chicago now) and the Navy Pier. The Pier is where Tris dominated capture the flag by climbing up the ferris wheel and Tris ziplines with the Dauntless Born initiates from the top of the John Hancock building (I think, don't quote me on that). Whatever, the John Hancock building had AMAZING views of the Pier and the rest of Chicago, especially at night, which is when we went.
My mom had often described her college experience as a very "romantic" time in her life. She came from a family that did not go to college, where she grew up without food most days. When she went to college, she was so excited and in unbelief that she had made it that far.
I never understood that feeling, until I got to Chicago. It felt like coming home. Not because I'm from there, or because I had ever been there, but it seemed like a place that had provided a backdrop to a story that got me through so many rough times. Basically, I'm secretly super sentimental and I was processing how far I had come from the time I first started attempting to watch Divergent and the Hunger Games Series to get to the point where I am now.
I did not share this reason for wanting to go to the Navy Pier, or Chicago for that matter, until my last night there with my friends. There was a time that I relied on them too much for support in my immediate post-trauma period, and I ended up overwhelming Beauty. When I had originally told Big Red what had happened to me, she cried in the middle of the mall as strangers strolled by and stared at us. Big Red does not cry, and I made her cry. Because of these experiences, I felt like I needed to avoid telling people my story. I didn't want to burden anyone with this overwhelming, crushing pain. It broke my heart to feel like I had hurt others because I shared my story with them. Looking back, I told Beauty far too much and "word vomited" my pain onto her. As far as Big Red goes, she was simply hurt because I had been hurt so horrifically and she was joining with me to feel that pain. She was mourning the injustices forced upon me. I didn't break her, she was validating how unfair it was for anyone, let alone her friend, to have to go through that. Especially from my first ever boyfriends.
I am now learning to be vulnerable and to share, without over-sharing. By sharing my reasoning for wanting to go to Chicago and see the Navy Pier after they had already agreed to go, they were able to share in my gratefulness and growth. They joined in my gladness because they had walked the most raw parts of my journey with me.
I can see G-d moving in my life friends. It's been awhile since I had been able to see it, but He's showing up so clearly I'm often dumbfounded.
For those that may/may not know, I love the Divergent series and the Hunger Games series. These movies had just released their first movies when I was newly going through the after effects of my first sexual assault from exboyfriend and the problems following Country Boy's suicide.
At first, I could not handle these movies. They are intense. Divergent has a scene where Tris is attacked by 3 guys who attempt to throw her into this cavern to her death. Tris also experiences the aftermath of a friend committing suicide.
After a couple of tries of watching the movies (yes, it took me multiple times of watching a few minutes at a time before I could get through the movies. However, once I got through them, I began to watch them over and over. I felt comforted by them, but could not peg why such dark movies meant so much to me and were able to comfort me so well.
After months and months of thinking about it, I came to this conclusion: I felt like Tris and Katniss.
They were experiencing constant war; I was fighting an epic battle of my own. They were outcasts with something to fight for; I too felt like an outcast with things to do in my life and something to fight for. They experienced much heartache, trauma, and flashbacks; sound familiar to anything I have written about? These young women survived, against all odds, terrible circumstances. I survived a friend's suicide, multiple sexual assaults/rapes, self harm, suicide attempts, domestic violence, loss of friends, college (against all odds, and nursing school was difficult without the addition of my PTSD), and yet I continued on.
When Big Red first suggested taking a trip, I didn't want to go. I didn't want to spend the money and go be triggered for a solid 4 days with no relief (as I knew would happen). I didn't want to do anything. It was proposed in one of my seasons of depression and exhaustion. Working two jobs, navigating the ups and downs associated with getting into counseling again, and struggling with friendships that had had their ups and downs that I still haven't fully healed from.
Eventually I agreed to go. One night I got this sudden wander lust and one of my bucket list destinations just so happened to be Chicago. Big Red had suggested 2 places and I immediately jumped on the "Chicago train". As we proceeded to plan, buy tickets, and get things in order, I realized (slowly) that Chicago is where the Divergent stories took place!
We started picking places we wanted to go and I chose the John Hancock Building (360 Chicago now) and the Navy Pier. The Pier is where Tris dominated capture the flag by climbing up the ferris wheel and Tris ziplines with the Dauntless Born initiates from the top of the John Hancock building (I think, don't quote me on that). Whatever, the John Hancock building had AMAZING views of the Pier and the rest of Chicago, especially at night, which is when we went.
My mom had often described her college experience as a very "romantic" time in her life. She came from a family that did not go to college, where she grew up without food most days. When she went to college, she was so excited and in unbelief that she had made it that far.
I never understood that feeling, until I got to Chicago. It felt like coming home. Not because I'm from there, or because I had ever been there, but it seemed like a place that had provided a backdrop to a story that got me through so many rough times. Basically, I'm secretly super sentimental and I was processing how far I had come from the time I first started attempting to watch Divergent and the Hunger Games Series to get to the point where I am now.
I did not share this reason for wanting to go to the Navy Pier, or Chicago for that matter, until my last night there with my friends. There was a time that I relied on them too much for support in my immediate post-trauma period, and I ended up overwhelming Beauty. When I had originally told Big Red what had happened to me, she cried in the middle of the mall as strangers strolled by and stared at us. Big Red does not cry, and I made her cry. Because of these experiences, I felt like I needed to avoid telling people my story. I didn't want to burden anyone with this overwhelming, crushing pain. It broke my heart to feel like I had hurt others because I shared my story with them. Looking back, I told Beauty far too much and "word vomited" my pain onto her. As far as Big Red goes, she was simply hurt because I had been hurt so horrifically and she was joining with me to feel that pain. She was mourning the injustices forced upon me. I didn't break her, she was validating how unfair it was for anyone, let alone her friend, to have to go through that. Especially from my first ever boyfriends.
I am now learning to be vulnerable and to share, without over-sharing. By sharing my reasoning for wanting to go to Chicago and see the Navy Pier after they had already agreed to go, they were able to share in my gratefulness and growth. They joined in my gladness because they had walked the most raw parts of my journey with me.
I can see G-d moving in my life friends. It's been awhile since I had been able to see it, but He's showing up so clearly I'm often dumbfounded.
Tuesday, March 13, 2018
Heaping Scoop of Dissappointment
I applied to graduate school for Nurse Midwifery to a campus that is a sister school to my alma mater. I thought it would be amazing! Go to school and graduate somewhere that is in the same school network... go do clinicals up where my parents live so I can just live with them... everything will be wonderful!
Well, I submitted my application and waited. One day, there in my email box, was an email inviting me to an interview day. Yes, they made a whole blessed day out of it. 8-4, there were 2 interviews (with all 16 of the faculty for the program), seminars from: current students, faculty from your specific specialty (there were other nurse practitioner applicants there too and they split us all up), financial aid, and several other people. Then, at the very end of the day, I had to write an essay! *sigh*
Then, I wait. Wait for their decision. Wait in hopes that I get in. Wait in trepidation that I wasn't what they were looking for, even though I was supposedly chosen out of hundreds of other applicants for this interview day.
This morning, after night shift, I got the call that I didn't get in. It's a bummer.
I called my mom and told her, but not with any more emotion than could be mustered to just state it matter-of-factly. She encouraged me that whatever the L-rd wants to have happen, will happen. "Maybe there are trips or something else you need to be available for," she suggested, in true Mom fashion. "Yeah," was all I could respond.
While I am not at the point of tears (because I believe my give-a-damn was broken with the trauma), I am disappointed. This was my first choice of schools. I have had so many other people apply to graduate school around me, and several of them were accepted to several schools on the first try! I keep hoping that they will email me back and tell me that the first email was a mistake and that I was actually accepted, but that longing seems to be more of the bargaining stage in my journey to acceptance.
It's funny because about a week ago, my mom met this lady who's daughter is one of the faculty members for the nurse-midwifery program at the university I wanted to attend. They got to talking and the lady gave my mom this faculty member's email and encouraged me to reach out to her. So, I emailed the lady, saying that "my mom met your mom and they wanted me to email you" but she never responded. It is awkward to begin with, but worse now that I know I wasn't accepted.
I don't really want to wait until next year to begin school, only because I wanted to graduate 2020 to keep my high school graduation (2012) even with my college graduation (2016) then grad school to be finished in 2020. How pretty is that?! Alas, it doesn't seem like it will happen. Plus, I want to get married and start a family at some point. I was really hoping to graduate and be settled before this happens.
Only the L-rd knows why things happen the way that they do. All I can do is pray and follow His lead.
In less painful news, I quit my position at the NICU. For those of you that haven't read all of my happenings; I was working NICU and L&D, for several months now. When I first moved back here, I was hired for L&D, but there was no position open. I know what you are thinking, why hire somebody for a position that is not open?! Yeah, I'm not sure. Regardless, the managers of L&D decided that they still wanted me, but bargained with me that I could be hired and would need to work Mom/Baby while waiting for an L&D position to open up.
I was so torn. I had had offers for several NICU positions around the state. I didn't want to give up my critical care specialty for anything other than a position that would be able to further my career. As such, I bargained with that manager, and the NICU manager that offered me a position at a level 3 NICU at the same time. I got both managers agree to let me work both jobs at the same time, with working part-time at both places. They both agreed, and both agreed to be "flexible" with my scheduling to assist me with this endeavor.
Fast-forward about a month and a half into working NICU: I have already had several scheduling problems with NICU because the people in charge of scheduling will not email me back after several weeks! My manager called me to yell at me, and I stood my ground. I gave her evidence and explained to her the many, many ways I had tried to resolve the issue, with no success. HR had emailed about how the unit could be improved and I responded with several pages worth of diplomatically worded suggestions. Spoiler alert: none of those changes were made. Shocker, I know. Continue on in my journey there, and I find out about legal actions being taken, they refuse to train me to the level 3 kids (even though I have level 3 experience and they begin training those hired after me to train to the critical kids before me), they continue to con me into working day shift holidays where I am losing time with my family as well as night shift differential. The list goes on!
The reason I stayed so long, is that I thought I needed to work NICU for 2 years before I could get my critical care nurse certification (RNC). About 4 days ago, I was reading over the requirements again, and I discovered I needed 2 years as an RN, but only some of my career needed to be in NICU!!! WHAT A WONDERFUL DISCOVERY!!!
I learned this little tidbit, while I was working L&D and I was nearly singing and dancing in the halls! I told everyone of my coworkers about it!!! Suddenly, my decision was clear: quit NICU. Life is too short to be dreading every. single. shift. Work is not the end-all-be-all of life. We work to be able to afford fun things, trips, food, etc. I don't need to sustain this life of being miserable at a work where management does not treat me well, my license is not safe to practice there, I don't agree with their practices, they continually screw me out of pay while requiring more and more from me, and day-shift (plus many night-shifters) are rude and miserable there as well!
So I quit. Then, I worked an L&D shift and they all celebrated with me. Such joy from my coworkers! They shared how glad they were that I am there. They fought over keeping me on their pod (we have 2 with a little hallway in between). The patients are communicated the same information from everybody, so they are grateful and understanding of the care they receive. (NICU nurses at the other place were regularly told different things from each nurse/nurse practitioner/doctor they encountered because there are no protocols and everybody practices based on how they were trained somewhere else.) While there are still people that I clash with in L&D, we are largely coherent on night shift, and even several of day shift people. They encourage my sarcastic jokes, dark humor, and general personality quirks. They like my hard-work and how much I try to help my patients through labor and delivery. They like that I do my best to continually learn and improve and help others when I can. They understand me better.
I like it here.
Well, I submitted my application and waited. One day, there in my email box, was an email inviting me to an interview day. Yes, they made a whole blessed day out of it. 8-4, there were 2 interviews (with all 16 of the faculty for the program), seminars from: current students, faculty from your specific specialty (there were other nurse practitioner applicants there too and they split us all up), financial aid, and several other people. Then, at the very end of the day, I had to write an essay! *sigh*
Then, I wait. Wait for their decision. Wait in hopes that I get in. Wait in trepidation that I wasn't what they were looking for, even though I was supposedly chosen out of hundreds of other applicants for this interview day.
This morning, after night shift, I got the call that I didn't get in. It's a bummer.
I called my mom and told her, but not with any more emotion than could be mustered to just state it matter-of-factly. She encouraged me that whatever the L-rd wants to have happen, will happen. "Maybe there are trips or something else you need to be available for," she suggested, in true Mom fashion. "Yeah," was all I could respond.
While I am not at the point of tears (because I believe my give-a-damn was broken with the trauma), I am disappointed. This was my first choice of schools. I have had so many other people apply to graduate school around me, and several of them were accepted to several schools on the first try! I keep hoping that they will email me back and tell me that the first email was a mistake and that I was actually accepted, but that longing seems to be more of the bargaining stage in my journey to acceptance.
It's funny because about a week ago, my mom met this lady who's daughter is one of the faculty members for the nurse-midwifery program at the university I wanted to attend. They got to talking and the lady gave my mom this faculty member's email and encouraged me to reach out to her. So, I emailed the lady, saying that "my mom met your mom and they wanted me to email you" but she never responded. It is awkward to begin with, but worse now that I know I wasn't accepted.
I don't really want to wait until next year to begin school, only because I wanted to graduate 2020 to keep my high school graduation (2012) even with my college graduation (2016) then grad school to be finished in 2020. How pretty is that?! Alas, it doesn't seem like it will happen. Plus, I want to get married and start a family at some point. I was really hoping to graduate and be settled before this happens.
Only the L-rd knows why things happen the way that they do. All I can do is pray and follow His lead.
In less painful news, I quit my position at the NICU. For those of you that haven't read all of my happenings; I was working NICU and L&D, for several months now. When I first moved back here, I was hired for L&D, but there was no position open. I know what you are thinking, why hire somebody for a position that is not open?! Yeah, I'm not sure. Regardless, the managers of L&D decided that they still wanted me, but bargained with me that I could be hired and would need to work Mom/Baby while waiting for an L&D position to open up.
I was so torn. I had had offers for several NICU positions around the state. I didn't want to give up my critical care specialty for anything other than a position that would be able to further my career. As such, I bargained with that manager, and the NICU manager that offered me a position at a level 3 NICU at the same time. I got both managers agree to let me work both jobs at the same time, with working part-time at both places. They both agreed, and both agreed to be "flexible" with my scheduling to assist me with this endeavor.
Fast-forward about a month and a half into working NICU: I have already had several scheduling problems with NICU because the people in charge of scheduling will not email me back after several weeks! My manager called me to yell at me, and I stood my ground. I gave her evidence and explained to her the many, many ways I had tried to resolve the issue, with no success. HR had emailed about how the unit could be improved and I responded with several pages worth of diplomatically worded suggestions. Spoiler alert: none of those changes were made. Shocker, I know. Continue on in my journey there, and I find out about legal actions being taken, they refuse to train me to the level 3 kids (even though I have level 3 experience and they begin training those hired after me to train to the critical kids before me), they continue to con me into working day shift holidays where I am losing time with my family as well as night shift differential. The list goes on!
The reason I stayed so long, is that I thought I needed to work NICU for 2 years before I could get my critical care nurse certification (RNC). About 4 days ago, I was reading over the requirements again, and I discovered I needed 2 years as an RN, but only some of my career needed to be in NICU!!! WHAT A WONDERFUL DISCOVERY!!!
I learned this little tidbit, while I was working L&D and I was nearly singing and dancing in the halls! I told everyone of my coworkers about it!!! Suddenly, my decision was clear: quit NICU. Life is too short to be dreading every. single. shift. Work is not the end-all-be-all of life. We work to be able to afford fun things, trips, food, etc. I don't need to sustain this life of being miserable at a work where management does not treat me well, my license is not safe to practice there, I don't agree with their practices, they continually screw me out of pay while requiring more and more from me, and day-shift (plus many night-shifters) are rude and miserable there as well!
So I quit. Then, I worked an L&D shift and they all celebrated with me. Such joy from my coworkers! They shared how glad they were that I am there. They fought over keeping me on their pod (we have 2 with a little hallway in between). The patients are communicated the same information from everybody, so they are grateful and understanding of the care they receive. (NICU nurses at the other place were regularly told different things from each nurse/nurse practitioner/doctor they encountered because there are no protocols and everybody practices based on how they were trained somewhere else.) While there are still people that I clash with in L&D, we are largely coherent on night shift, and even several of day shift people. They encourage my sarcastic jokes, dark humor, and general personality quirks. They like my hard-work and how much I try to help my patients through labor and delivery. They like that I do my best to continually learn and improve and help others when I can. They understand me better.
I like it here.
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