Feeling all the Feels.

Sitting here, eating my coveted buttered popcorn, I’m taking a minute to reflect. Reflection has a way of snowballing for me, one thought leads to another, and I almost always end up having to rein it in before an avalanche happens. I bring my thoughts back to the simple thought that I don’t have to have all the answers, don’t have to be perfect, I just have to Trust my Lord. I do find though, that I process thoughts better with writing, so I’m dusting off the old blog for my sanity’s sake.

Reflecting on my morning:

Church today was beautiful. Laughter, tears, worship, dancing, hugs, family, food. Beautiful. 

Church today was hard. Confronting my social awkwardness and anxieties, pushing past my brokenness, learning to listen to His leading. Making new friends. Friendships have never come easily to me . . . I am not a natural friend, if there is such a thing . . . though I have always admired those who make it look easy.

It’s been a roller coaster of a year, folks. 

Here I am, just about a month away from graduating the nursing program. I feel like I lost two years. Please don’t feel bad for me, or worse, correct me for being negative. Sure, I have gained a lot in these two years – new friendships, knowledge and experience, and an education that will open doors for my future. For these blessings I am so very grateful.  But I have lost two years of so much else.

At the end of this nursing program, I did not expect so many feelings. . . I spent some time crying today to my wonderful husband, and then I took a therapeutic nap, and now I am therapeutically blogging to help me sift through all these feelings.feel all the feels

Nursing Pro’s: 

  1. I like caring for people.
  2. We can save up for a house.
  3. I could support the family if something happened to Andrew.
  4. It’s nice to have something to do that is my own.
  5. The possibility of doing medical missions someday excites me.

Nursing Con’s:

  1. I am away from my family and friends far more than I like, and will be for the next few years until I can get a contingent position.  I hate missing things – big things and little things. I want to be present.
  2. It looks to me that I pretty much will have to get my bachelor’s degree in the next five years or so if I want to work somewhere besides a nursing home. I am not thrilled about more school right now.
  3. I am so tired.
  4. Nursing looks different than I expected.

One month till graduation. Probably two and a half months till I take my boards. Maybe five months till I get a job?

One step at a time. Praying for His guidance in every step. 

And I will Trust. 

In His Arms

Coffee mug in hand, I stare out the window at the cloudy sky, and my tired mind tries to focus on something that feels beyond reach.

I begin the slow climb up into His arms.  It takes all my might – it has been too long, and I haven’t done this climb nearly enough lately, and so these muscles feel rusty, weak, and afraid.

Resting my head against His chest, I listen for His whisper, yearn to hear His heartbeat.

It takes practice, I know, to push away the thoughts that crowd out His voice, and I do not take for granted those precious moments when He overwhelms my head and heart, and He is all that I can feel.

There it is.


It’s been a long year.  A year of too much coffee, and too little sleep.  A year of good grades, and unmet expectations. A year of test anxiety, undone laundry, and a family that is learning to adjust . . . there were times this year I could almost hear my family creaking and groaning like a ship caught in a mighty storm.

But here . . .  in His arms . . . here I am safe from wind and wave. In this moment, I feel I am sleeping with Him in the bottom of the boat, unfazed.

The storms of this year have weathered me.  My skin is thickened from too much sun and sea-spray. My heart feels callous – my feeble attempt at protecting myself from all life has thrown at me this year. My words are sharp, and sometimes cold. Lately, I feel the iciness of my words even as they leave my mouth.  And I hear in my head: Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks . . . 

My prayer in this moment is for the return of sweetness in my life and words.  A sweetness that I know comes only from regularly climbing into These Arms.

I know I am loved, accepted.

I know who I am called to be.

My head and heart are bowed, heavy with repentance. Every fiber of me cries out for closeness with Him. I know if I take my eyes off This Face, or wander from These Arms, I will quickly become confused, unsure, and the waves will be all I can see.

And so I pray.

It’s a start.