Hardest Shift Yet

The day you care for a patient in the same room your friend died in just months earlier.

It's tough.

It'll all work out

Life has been hard. Lately I've thought that I have to do it all on my own. Work x amount of hours a week, intern x amount of hours a week, write research papers, present at scholarly conferences, interview with big name hospitals, prepare for the NCLEX, attempt a social life -- you name it. I've been overworked and spread thin and I've been down and exhausted. I must have forgotten along the way that God has the power to do all things, and that with God I can do all things. 

All Christ asked of the Leper, the lame, the blind, and the sick was "come unto me". And he healed them. He's a man of miracles. Is it really so hard for me to believe that he could do the same for me? I'm stuck in the mentality that I have to do it all on my own, but it's a lie. 

Why is it so hard for me to believe that God wants nothing less for me than happiness? Why is it so hard for me to remember that with God I can do anything. Why is it so hard to remember that he is ready to bless me infinitely if only I just ask him to?

The reality of it all is that I can't do it on my own. I was never asked to do it on my own. He promised he'd be there every step of the way whether I recognized it in the moment or in hind sight. God has a plan, he sees the big picture, and I need to learn to just trust that in his own perfect timing, everything will work out.

Fashion Statement

Sometimes I wear slippers at work. 

Oh, that night shift life.

Thoughts On Change

Change makes us uneasy. It's unknown territory and often times we feel pressured into change after we've grown considerably comfortable where we are. 

But I've come to learn that change is the only constant (as ironic as that is). Change is something we can count on. Time is it's catalyst. Time goes on. Sometimes it's slow and then sometimes it flies. And maybe we aren't always satisfied with the speed of time, but time doesn't stop. We continue to progress, and change happens.

We turn another page or another year older. We reach a goal and make a new one. People move around the corner, across town, beyond the state line, and across the globe. We start a new chapter. We meet new people. We find home away from home. Change happens.

I'm excited for a new chapter, really. It's new and it's different. It's out of my comfort zone. The silverware is in a new drawer, I roll out in the opposite side of the bed, and classes are 12 hours long.

But change is good. Change makes me better. It's through change that I learn to lean on The Lord. It's through change that I learn who I am, my strengths, my shortcomings, and my potential. 

I'm grateful that change doesn't change.

That One Time I Graduated From Nursing School

Well, this happened last week.

Plan Z

You know when you begin to finish one chapter and another one is on the verge of beginning? 

I'm there right now in the book of Jeshi. 

And let me tell you, I really hate the whole endless-unknown-possibilities thing. 

You see, I'm a planner. I plan ahead. I like to know what I'm doing and how I'm getting there etc, etc. I dream up the perfect plan and I execute it to the best of my mortal abilities. But I'm learning that everything I want isn't exactly what The Lord wants for me. When my plan goes off course I tend to panic and question everything. I know God sees the big picture. Sometimes it calms my anxiety, but other times it makes it soar through the roof. I'm learning to accept that He knows what is best. And I'm learning that giving Him my will is the only thing I really have to offer Him for all He's given me. It's hard to accept. But God knows what He is doing. He doesn't make mistakes. I have no need to fear or worry. God has it all under control, and it's out of mine, and you know what-- I think that after a little practice--I can get used to this. 

After all, He is God.

How India Changed Me

India was a life changing experience. It was something completely different from anything I've known. And I loved it. There are many things about me that have changed since I've come home from India. A lot of what I learned and experienced is hard to explain in words. But some things I can.

                       

I am Severely Sentimental. I thought I was emotional and sentimental before. No. It doesn't matter who you are-- if you ask me about my trip to India I am more than likely to politely refuse with a phrase along the lines of, "It was the best thing I have ever done with my life, but I can't tell you about it because I'll cry." And it's true. India changed me in a way that is hard to put into words. It's difficult to share such meaningful and life altering experiences with others because I feel like there is no possible way they can understand the depth and importance of the people, places, and details that I hold so close to my heart.

I Have to Roll Down the Windows. In India the air conditioning was close to non-existent on our long bus rides to and from colonies, church, and everywhere else we drove. For this reason, I have grown particularly fond of driving with the windows down. On a hot day in Provo, I can roll down the window, stick out my arm, close my eyes, and just like that, I'm back. I can feel the wind in my face. I can smell dirty camping bacon. I can hear my friends laughing and singing along to every Disney song. And I feel like I can open my eyes and find myself sitting with my friends on that rickety bus, like I'm home again.

I Desperately Want to Honk My Horn. The streets here are too quiet. There isn't excitement in playing chicken with the bus coming towards you. There aren't stray cows, goats, and dogs running along beside you. There aren't lopsided, overcrowded buses with faces peeking out to stare at the fair-skinned Americans. There aren't colorful fruit stands along the side of the road, or families just getting ready for the day. Honking in India is more of a "I'm coming up beside you, just wanted you to know I'm trying to pass." But here in the states it's only used to shout at other drivers: THE LIGHT IS GREEN! YOU'RE DRIVING TOO SLOW! THIS IS MY LANE, DON'T YOU DARE MERGE! I really wish the honking here was more of the friendly, overused honking in India. I just want to honk all the time, disregard traffic laws, and stuff as many people into a car as I can.


Be Flexible. In preparation for India, we had to take a class that taught us some things about Indian culture, family roles, government, religion, geography-- you get the picture. The one thing they drilled into us consistently was: Be Flexible. But there was no way they could really prepare us for the full flexibility needed for India. We passed this test with flying colors though. From the moment we landed in Mumbai and tried to find our connecting terminal, to the bus breaking down in the middle of nowhere, to the times we'd ask the drivers where we were on the map only to have them answer, " I don't know, I just drive." And not just flexible in the sense of time-- but flexible in sharing seats on the bus even though we knew that one butt cheek would not be fitting on the seat and that if you sat next to someone you barely knew at the beginning of the bus ride, you would know them fairly well when it was over. If we weren't flexible before India, all fourteen of us surely are now.

Everyone Knows Tamil, Right? Instead of resorting to Spanish when someone doesn't speak the same language as me, "Hola, me llamo Jessie. Como estas?" -- I automatically speak in Tamil. "Vanakkam, en payer Jessie, unga para nah?" And then they just stare at me like I'm some crazy person. And then I realize I'm not in Tamil Nadu anymore. Rumba Rumba Awkward.

I'm Learning to Accept Love. Since being home from India, I've had the hardest time finding meaning in my life. I spent a month of my life serving-- and every waking moment was a new opportunity to serve and love. Coming back to the states has been hard in the sense that the people aren't as quick to accept service or love. They're skeptical, busy, and independent. It's almost like you have to pull out their teeth for them to accept anything you do. It's like they're waiting for the catch. You really want to serve me? What's in it for you? I'm still trying to find meaning in my profession and in my life. I miss being so willing to serve and love these people that I'd never met, and having that desire granted. But even more so, I think I miss being loved in return, regardless of who I am, what I've done, or what I look like. I could be a sweaty American speaking broken Tamil in clothes that don't match-- and they would still treat me like I was the most important person in that moment. I think I could have worked forever there and not complained about it. It made me feel whole.


Relationships are Everything. Everyone is important. No one is too small. In India they had nothing. These people were shunned from society, from their families even. Some of them are missing multiple limbs. But they still smile. They accepted each other and became each others family. They care for and lift one another. Often times I am reminded that the only thing we truly carry on into the next life is our knowledge: all of our experiences, everything we've learned in this life. But I believe that there are two things that we take with us. Our knowledge, yes. But also our relationships. How we treat people matters. Loving others regardless of their social status, their skin color, their language, their past-- it's empowering. It's like a fire lights inside of you and it warms you. You become an instrument in the hands of God. I may not ever see my new friends again in this life, but I know that one day I will. India taught me that once you're friends in India, you're friends forever.