To Be Known



Dear You,

You’re alright you know. You’re not perfect, but you’re perfectly you. You are Tov: good and beautiful because your body works. Not because of how it looks. It breathes and pumps and pushes and pulls without you ever giving it a thought. Your body works the way it’s supposed to because of a God who created it to do just that. So stop running to things or people to fix that which is already good. Take care of yourself, yes; but also rest content in the finished work. He doesn’t make mistakes. So give yourself grace. And enjoy living in your skin.

Love, Me

Life vs. Death

It's incredibly unfair. And leaves me with 1,000 why questions. If the command was be fruitful and multiply, why is there so much death in birth? Why, Lord, would you take the time to create a perfectly formed little human, 3oz big, 14cm long, only to take his life before he even breathed a first breath? Why would you allow a uterus to rupture on a mom with no known risk factors, only to leave the baby unprotected in the abdominal cavity, bleeding out from within, with who knows what long term physical and mental disabilities she'll have from lack of oxygenation for those few precious minutes before we called the emergency c-section? Why do you allow healthy babies to be born to moms on meth and coke and heroin, while couples who have been aching for children for years and who've spent thousands of dollars on fertility treatments lose theirs? Why is there a curse on the command?

And that's just this weekend...

Before I became a nurse, when people asked me why I chose labor and delivery, I used to say it's because I wanted to be a part of bringing life into the world. I would rather experience the living-side of the hospital than the dying-side. That was before I knew just how much death I would deliver. Every death leaves a scar on my heart. I remember every baby. Malachi, Aiden, Grayson & Logan, Emmanuel, Jayden, Hope, Claire, Adam John. The list goes on. And so do the nightmares.

But I keep going back.

Because deep in my heart I know I was made for this. I was made to care for people in their most vulnerable moments, both happy and sad. It's a trauma and burden I choose to carry and it's not for everyone. There are some days I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy; and I honestly don't know that I can say the good days make up for the bad. Because the sting of the bad will always be there. But I do know that God gives me just enough grace for the day as my scrubs fill with the tears of another on my shoulders. 

Head vs. Heart

That's just it. That's why we're dangerous together.

Addictive behaviors aside, I think and act with my heart first and then my head follows. And you think and act with your head first and then your heart catches up. And now we're stuck in an impossible situation because of the decisions your head made years ago before you decided to listen to your heart. And now our hearts and heads are fighting against each other for what we feel is right and what we know is right.

But shouldn't the heart always win?