How Do I Know?

            I’ve been so excited about the prospect of nursing school. Yes, I know it will be hard. I know I’ll cry—a lot. I know it will take all I’ve got. But I feel like I’m finally going somewhere. Come fall, I’ll finally be able to say that I’m a nursing student. That’s waaaay different than being a “nursing major.” All “nursing major” means is that I’m taking all my prerequisites so I can become a nursing student. I knew the nerves would come full force at some point, but they just hadn’t hit me—until orientation.

            I had nursing school orientation just this past week. Yes, nursing school itself doesn’t start until the fall, and I have two summer classes to get through before then, but orientation was this week since there are about five zillion things one has to do before nursing school. Buy uniforms. Background check. Drug screen. Physical. Immunizations out the wazoo. Etc, etc. So orientation is to help us know what we’re doingm and start to prepare our poor, innocent minds for the monsoon of challenge that is awaiting us all. And, because I’m a big girl now, I went to orientation by myself. Moma wasn’t there to drop me off or show me to the room. I drove there (which, of course has to involve some form of getting turned around a couple times, because, hey! It’s me!). I found the room (with the help of another girl and her mom, because they changed the room on us). I walked in.

It was huge.

I know Chatt State is NOT Clearwater. I knew everything would be bigger. But I guess I’m just too used to small classrooms. Not lecture halls. Long tables with swivel chairs, layered and layered, leading to the podium and two projectors in the front. And there was a stage, also, I think. I don’t trust my memory. I swear, everything inside of me was shaking.

I don’t belong here. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong here…

Good gracious, Lydia. Pull yourself together.

True to myself, I walked down, down, down the isle to the second or third table from the front and sat at the seat closest to the aisle. Looking around, I noticed that everyone else had matching papers (hard to miss, seeing as one of them was fluorescent orange). I leaned over to the woman next to me, separated by an empty chair between us,

“Excuse me. Where did you get those papers?”

“There were on the first table as you walked in.”

“Right. Thanks.”

So back up, up, up I walked to the entrance, finding the three stacks of paper on the far left of the first table (to my credit, from the angle that you walk in at, they are partially hidden by the seat in front of them). I take the papers. Then down, down, down. I tried to not think about what all the people who were starting at me were thinking about. I wanted to vomit. Or cry. Maybe both. Most of all, I just wanted to run. But I did what I have found to be the most effective thing to do in such circumstances. I steeled myself. Shoulders back. Head high. Look like you know what you’re doing. Feign confidence, and it will often come to you.

The rest of the meeting was like a winding West Virginia road. My emotions were going one way and then another, all the while feeling like I was teetering on the edge of a cliff, with only a small guard rail keeping me in line. Fear to excitement. Doubt to positive anticipation. Wanting to cry then laughing out loud. Praise the Lord for the head of the nursing program—that woman was wonderful. As nervous as I was, she made me feel quite at home with hear easy manner and great sense of humour. The farther I went, the easier things got, until, finally, it was time to go. Those three hours, thankfully, went much quicker than I anticipated (hopefully my three hour class sessions this summer will as well).

However, during those low emotional points in the session, I began doubting myself more than I have in a very long time.

I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m not cut out for nursing school. What am I doing here? Why am I here? Why did I decide to do this again? I’m never going to make it. I don’t even want to try. I’m trapped. There’s no going back.

Praise God for the ways He works in our lives. Sometimes He makes things bumpy along the way to comfort us in the future. You see, the only reason I could combat those thoughts is because I knew—I KNEW—that they were false. Because I know I’m headed where God wants me. Why? Because there’s no way on this green earth that I would have even made it this far if it were not for God’s grace.

I began to think of the scene from Enchanted when Giselle and Robert are walking through the park discussing Robert’s relationship. In proper Disney style, Giselle breaks out into song, asking Robert, “how does she know you love her?” Now, disregarding the fact that perhaps having yellow flowers sent when the sky is grey is not a 100% verification of love, a point is made: often, we know someone loves us, or we are reminded that they do, because we can see it in their actions. Now, what does this have to do with me and nursing school? Well, you see, during my last few weeks of classes at CCC, my RA asked me how I was feeling about leaving and going to nursing school. My response was this: “I’ve never been so sure that I’m where God wants me and going where He wants me than I am right now.” How do I know? Because of the ways—incredibly numerous ways—that He has provided for me to get here. Honestly, the road to nursing school has been kind of crazy, and my plans have been shifted, shaken, and turned completely upside down more times that I can recall. Right when I would think we had everything sorted out, another curve ball was thrown. And I’m grateful. I’ve learned so much through this experience. Mostly, it is this:

“The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps” (Proverb 16:9).

Yes, it’s good to plan. We shouldn’t walk through life willy-nilly, never preparing, never being a wise steward of what we have been given. But as my RD cautioned the DL’s and RA’s in regards to our plans for the summer, “Hold on to them loosely. Be open to the changes God may wish to make to them.” My mom and I have had to plan and prepare a lot for my upcoming nursing education (mostly my mom has done the planning and preparing, I will admit). But sometimes—most of the time—something has come along to alter our plans, or even completely erase them at times. Through it all, God has taught me to trust Him, because every time something “bad” happened, He showed me His power and provision in ways I would not have gotten to see otherwise. Getting into Chatt State in-and-of-itself was a huge indicator that it was His will for me to go there, because that program is competitive.

And that’s how I know. Because, while Moma and I have been planning our ways, God has very clearly been establishing our steps. I wouldn’t be where I am if it weren’t for His provision. Every plan that went awry, every unmet expectation, every phone call to the college that resulted in another hoop to jump through—God’s hand was very clearly directing us through each one and providing us an incredible way through. I can see through His works, His provisions for me, that Chatt State is my next step. And there was my comfort during that intimidating orientation. I don’t know how I would have made it through—how I would have even made it to my seat—if I did not have the assurance in my heart that God has provided the way into nursing school, so He will provide the way through it. I know that it is more than likely that I will have to face unexpected barriers along the way. Things may not—very likely will not—go the way I want them to all the time. But I’m okay with that. Because, so far, when things don’t go my way, it’s because they’re going God’s way, and His ways are so much greater than mine (Isaiah 55:9).

It would be a lie to tell you that I’m not scared of nursing school. Facing what I know will probably be one of the most academically challenging seasons of my life is insanely intimidating. Not to mention I get to go through the lovely experience of being the newbie again. Which means I have to work on making new friends. Adjusting to a new environment. Learning how to balance this new academic workload with other things like friends, family, work, and leisure.

But every day I try to cast all my cares and anxieties on God, because I know, I have seen, that He cares for me (I Peter 5:7).