Fear, Faith, and the Pasta Sauce Aisle

“Today is so full of blessings!”

That’s what I exclaimed to Matty yesterday afternoon as we sat at Starbucks after my loooong day of orientation. Just a couple hours later, he was rubbing my back as I cried in the pasta sauce aisle at Walmart, because I was overwhelmed and missed my mom.

And if all that isn’t an accurate representation of these past couple months, I don’t know what is.

Truly, for as much change as these past few months have brought me, they’ve brought equal doses of mood swings—overwhelmed by blessings, then fear, peace, fatigue, excitement, doubt... I’ve gone through more attitude adjustments than I’d care to recount. And I’ve learned and grown. I’m still terrified of what’s ahead—of being an RN and getting an apartment and getting married—but God relentlessly assures me, through countless ways, that I am exactly where He wants me. That I’ve been in daunting situations before, and He has always proven Himself faithful. He may not provide in the way I expect or the way I think I want Him to, but I can rejoice in the knowledge that His way is always, always best.

I’ll be starting on a Palliative care floor—a far cry from anything I ever thought I wanted; yet I find myself excited. I feel such assurance that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. And I think most of that assurance comes from the fact that the circumstances that got me this job were so clearly orchestrated by God and not by me.

On July 29^th, right before I opened the envelope that would tell me whether I got a job at Lakeland Regional or not, I prayed, “Lord, whatever is in this envelope is Your best for me. Help me to have peace in that, even if Your best isn’t what I was wanting. Help me know that this is your will—because it is.” I opened that letter to find out that I had not been hired on at LRH; instead, I was put on a waiting list. And in that moment, amidst the pain and confusion and humiliation, it was like God was urging me—“THIS IS my best for you. You have to see that I am in control here—not you. Your will is not mine, and I’m forcing you to have to trust me more. I will provide—My ways are higher than yours.” And, to be honest, my response was, “I know God—but that doesn’t mean that I like it.”

Then, through God’s hand (and He used the body of Christ to provide in a beautiful way), I got a job at LRH. On a Palliative and Acute Care floor. I wanted women’s health or pediatrics or emergency department—and I got Palliative care. But because God provided in a way that was so obviously through His mighty power and not my own faulty will, I have such peace that this floor is the best possible floor for me at this time of my life—that He has some great things to teach me there.

Yet I’m still terrified. I still sit in my orientation sessions thinking, “I take it back—I take the past two years back. Please let me just go be a barista at a coffee shop or something. I can’t do this.” But I also wanted to quit after my first semester of nursing school, but God provided. And these past two years have shown me His provision in ways I had never experienced before. So even though I’m so nervous I want to turn off my 4:45 AM alarm and pretend that I never decided to be a nurse, I’ll set that alarm. I’ll get up tomorrow morning and put on my crisp black scrubs. I’ll clip my name badge on and look with disbelief and overwhelming gratitude at the words “Registered Nurse” under my name. I’ll go to my new floor and meet my manager. I will be scared. And I will find, like I do every day, that God’s mercies are new every morning—great is His faithfulness. 

Yours Honestly, NS: The biggest lie about nursing school

We’ve all heard it, and the majority of us have said it: “I have no life—I’m in nursing school,” “Nursing school is my life,” “I have no life outside of nursing school,” or some variation. We say it as a complaint, but, deep down, we all kind of wish it were true. Because, even deeper down, we all know it’s not. No matter how much we wish we could just take these couple years and tackle this torment that is nursing school, life insists on continuing around us—and we are forced to keep up.
Ben Rector (my favourite artist, but that’s irrelevant), has a song that states (pardon the terminology), “Here’s the truth: life sucks sometimes. When it hurts so bad that you can’t go on, life keeps moving on.” I wish that all I had to deal with were nursing school. I wish that I didn’t have other aspects of life to handle as well—but I do. I have relationships to maintain, I have work to go to, I have dishes to put away. Sometimes we feel like all those are put on hold, but they’re not. Every mother in the program that has to care for her sick child when she could be studying for a test knows that. The one whose house was destroyed by a natural disaster… the one whose family member died… the one whose family member was rushed to the hospital… the one who got engaged…the one who broke up…. They all know it. We all know it. Life won’t stop, so neither can we.

I don’t mean to be pessimistic—it’s not just the bad stuff that butts its head in. It’s the good stuff, too. Sometimes, it means forfeiting study time so you can go see one of your best friends get married. Or to babysit your nephew. Or, for some, to have a child (those girls are straight up HEROES). “If it’s good or bad, if it’s slow or fast: life keeps moving on." 

Sometimes, you have to say, “this test is important, but this person is more important.” Because we know, in 20 years, we won’t care if that test was a 70 or an 80. We’ll care that we have precious memories with the people that we love. I’ve yet to regret a movie night or cup of coffee that I’ve squeezed into my schedule.

So, new nursing students or those who aspire to be ones—don’t believe the lie. Yes, when school starts, you’ll be busy. You will have to sacrifice a lot. You’ll feel, at times, that all you are is a nursing student and that’s all you ever do. But it’s not. And life will make sure you find that out. So be prepared for the bad; be excited for the good. Life will find it’s way into all the mess of assignments and tests—and you can do it. You can cry yourself to sleep one night and get up and do school the next (you may need a power nap, but you’ll make it). Don’t feel guilty when you do something other than school—you need that. You are human. And you are more—much more—than a nursing student. No one that has gone before you has been perfect—so don’t feel like you need to be. Sometimes life hits you like a truck; sometimes, life makes you feel like you're flying. “And it’s beautiful and tragic, different verse but same old song. Sometimes the only thing you learn is that life keeps moving on.”

Yours honestly, NS.

(all lyrics from Ben Rector’s “Life Keeps Moving On”)