DEAR HEARTS

I am not a painter, sculptor, or musician.

I am not a dancer, baker, or poet.

So, for want of greater skill, I took a pinch of my heart, tucked it into a dab of clay, and rolled it into a ball.

I did this again, and again, and again, until I reached into my chest with sticky red fingers to discover I had used my heart all up.

I sat and contemplated why I had thought that was a good idea in the first place – tucking pieces of my heart into pockets of mud, until my heart was spent. Oh, I have been such a silly fool, I thought, and now I am undone! For, silly as I’d been, I did know I could not live long without a heart.

I had not grieved this revelation for very long when one of the clay balls began to tremble. It sprouted a head, grew arms and legs. The smidgen of mud and blood stood up and walked. And then it danced! The clay danced a story so incredibly sweet that my chest ached, and my tears flowed like springtime streams.

When I thought I could no longer stand the ache of that beautiful dance, the second clay ball sprouted a head, grew arms and legs. It stood, spread wide its arms, threw back its head, and sang a song about pearl white moonlight on sleeping fields, about soft spring breezes sweet with the smell of clover and the sad lament of the mourning dove. I wept again and was certain now that my chest would soon be crushed by the weight of the beauty of that song.

Then the third ball – a daub of brown mud, swirled red with my heart’s blood - sprouted a head, grew arms and legs. It stood, grasped a great brush, and painted light and fire across the sky. It wetted the brush again, and stroked swirls of poetry and birdsong, apple blush and sunset gold, baby laughter and lover’s tears across life’s canvas. I looked, and I could not breathe because of the beauty of that painting.

One by one, each of the clay balls stood. They danced and sang, painted and baked, loved and laughed, cried and cried out, made light and new life in the world around them. Each time, the great hole in my chest – the place where my heart had once rested, before I had pinched it into tiny pieces to be tucked inside balls of clay – each time, that great hole in my chest ached with a mixture of wonder and joy and indescribable longing. Ached until, finally, my frail chest – that hollow place where my heart had once rested - could bear no more.

Oh, the cracking and tearing! All that was the Outside side of me quivered, screamed, shivered into a thousand-thousand pieces. A pain the size of eternity shattered my whole being.

And then…

Quiet.

…

How long have I lain pulseless, bled out by that great rending?

How many times has the moon sailed across the night sky?

How often have the trees changed gowns for the autumn dance?

One

Deep

Slow

Breath.

I wake.

I find that I was not crushed after all.

Rather, I was turned inside out.

Another deep breath. A pulse, so tentative, so faint...

What is this? A new heart?!

I did NOT die when I gave my heart away. I was born again.

And I am just beginning to live.

---

My dear hearts,

Thank you.

NURSING SCHOOL, PART 8 (HE DID IT AGAIN...)

He did it again.

He met me in a dark valley - got there before I did - and He was holding a light.

It was incredibly hard and I ended the term exhausted, but I truly enjoyed my first semester of school. My teachers were excellent; the material we covered was interesting; and I enjoyed meeting new people and making new friends.

However, it has been very nice the past couple of weeks to NOT: get up before 5:00 every morning; stay up late reviewing Micro and Zoology notes; stress over math homework and lab quizzes; juggle work and school and all the things I should be doing at home.

The dark circles under my eyes are gone. The knotted cables in my shoulders and neck have relaxed. Ahhhhh....

But...

A tremendous obstacle looms like Mount Doom between me and nursing classes in the fall: Anatomy & Physiology 2.

A&P1 in four months felt like a runaway train, from the first day of class until the last. I cannot imagine an entire semester's worth of A&P2 crammed into four weeks.

While I have been catching up on sleep and household chores, I have been trying very hard to NOT think about the approach of June and A&P2. Like hearing footsteps behind you in a dark alley, and they're getting closer, and you know you can't outrun whatever-it-is but you're too terrified to look over you shoulder. Or, like the frightened child who thinks that if he closes his eyes, because he can't see the bogey, the bogey isn't really there.

Yeah, that's kinda how I've been feeling.

But God reminded me again this week that I did not initiate this nursing-school journey - HE did - and He is perfectly capable of finishing what He has purposed for me. I don't have to be afraid of the bogey.

Last weekend, I looked at the calendar and realized that A&P2 is only two weeks away. My stomach knotted. Those familiar steel cables tensed across my shoulders and up my neck. "How on earth am I ever going to get through this?" I thought. "There's no way! I must be out of my ever-loving mind." And then the questioning: "God, is this really what you want me to do? Are you sure?!"

I ran into a friend I hadn't seen in months on Monday morning. She had no idea doubt and anxiety had the upper hand in my mind that morning, that I was second-guessing this whole going-back-to-school thing.

"It's so good to see you!" We chatted a few minutes, then my friend smiled and said, "I am so proud of you for going back to school, Camille. You're going to do great. Hang in there, girl...you've got this!"

And there was an encouraging note from my step-mom, tacked onto the end of an short email about an upcoming family dinner.

And an impromptu visit from my sister and nephew, who live three hours away. And not just a visit, but they actually brought me a car. Yes, you read that correctly: my brother-in-law sent me wheels for getting back and forth to campus.

And then, when I mentioned an expensive piece of technology I needed class, complaining that professors are sometimes insensitive to the financial situations of many students, another friend volunteered: "Oh! I have one of those! You can borrow mine!"

Last week, I was in a dark place, wondering why on earth I was doing this whole school thing, thinking maybe I had misunderstood and that I should throw in the towel.

This week, I am confident God has me exactly where He wants me.

He met me with a light - multiple lights - and said to me: "This way, my child..."

God got me through spring semester; He can get me through A&P2 in June.

THE LIES THAT BIND

It's been nice sleeping in later than 5:00 most mornings the past couple of weeks. Eighteen more days until June classes begin...

The women at FPC began a study of 1 Peter last night. Our hope is that this time together in God's Word will help us to know him better, and that by knowing God better, we will understand ourselves better and will be transformed more into his likeness.

And yet, there is this thin line of tension some of us feel as we begin...

Some of us know from experience that when we commit to spending more time in diligent study of God's Word, Satan will create opposition. He will try to distract us or knock us out.

Peter begins his letter by writing about "living hope" and the power of God that keeps us, and then he jumps quickly to the topic of trials.

While it is a very good thing to be in God's Word, it is a very hard thing to be the target of the enemy's malice. We should earnestly desire to know God better, but we would be naive to think that pursuit of God comes without cost.

I am thankful Peter anticipates difficulties and trials and offers encouragement at the outset.

And I am thankful to be in this study of 1 Peter, in this place, at this time.

* * *

My mom once told me I was very "black and white," "all or nothing." I tended to see things as entirely one way or the other: good, or bad; sweet, or sour; happy, or sad; right, or wrong; love, or hate. No gray area in between.

For the most part, Mom was right.

However, I have been learning over the past several years - and it has not been an easy learning - I have been learning that life is so much more complicated than simple black and white, that it is possible to feel very contrary emotions - all at the same time - about a particular person, event, or situation.

This enormous complexity has not been easy for me to wrap my brain around. It has been even more challenging for my heart.

I have learned that...

It is possible to genuinely love someone, and yet acknowledge deep hurt at their hands; that thick scars and buried anger interlace sweet memories and a genuine desire for good.

Difference of opinion does not equal disrespect.

The things that give me the greatest delight often cause me the greatest pain.

I can be genuinely happy and thankful about something, and yet also feel sadness and remorse.

A simple example...

I am truly thankful for my job: I love my work; I enjoy my co-workers; I appreciate the income and am thankful it pays for school.

- AND -

Sometimes, my job makes me very sad: I will not get to worship with my church family this Sunday; I missed time with my son when he was home last month; some patient encounters bring me to tears.

I love my job and I love being back in school, but there are some things about work and school that I hate, particularly the constraints on my time. Love and hate, tangled up together inside my straining heart.

To claim the good and not the bad, to pretend that one is true and not the other, that would be dishonest. It would be lying to myself and to the people around me.

And we know who is the author of lies.

Peter says the living out of our faith will not be without trials. My mind and my heart are a battleground.

Satan would convince me that life's battles are won by affirming only the happy and denying the sad, by insisting - to myself and others - that "I am fine," when in fact I am struggling.

Satan is the father of lies.

God is a God of truth - all truth - both happy, pretty truth AND sad, ugly truth.

Today, I want to live honestly - to appreciate all that is good, lovely, joyful and sweet - AND - to grieve all that is less-than, broken, painful and bitter.

Both.

* * *

I think many of us tend to err on one of two sides: "It's all good!" or "It's all bad (frown emoji)."

What I am trying to say today is...whatever our personal tendencies, we must endeavor to be honest, and to tell the whole truth - not just our favorite side of the truth - first to ourselves and then to others.

Lies bind us; truth sets us free.

I will run in the way of your commandments for you set my heart free. Psalm 119:32

PORCH SWING

When the sun drops behind newly-leafed trees on the western horizon, day shifts hard from almost-too-hot to a-bit-too-cool. Shivering, I retrieve a sweater and a cup of hot tea. Evening chill, you may NOT drive me inside!

I am reluctant to abandon my spot on the porch swing.

God is present everywhere - barnyard, highway, grocery check-out line, woodland walk, hospital room, laundry mat, dental chair, church sanctuary...

But on the porch swing on a cool evening, with the birds singing riotous praise as sunlight fades to softer gold across the hay field, the veil is so thin I can almost hear Him breathe.

WHEN WEEPING GIVES WAY TO JOY

Weeping may endure for a night...

Thinking this week about grief, broken relationships, and disappointed expectations, and came across these quotes:

These words by Ann VosKamp, discovered by my daughter a couple of years ago during the throes of a broken heart; we were both grieving, and she shared this with me - I have often reread it since:

"Make us humble people who are never afraid of broken things...because Christ is always doing a new thing."

Rosaria Butterfield, posted on Facebook this week by a sweet friend:

"All affliction is meant to direct us to the fountain of life, Jesus Christ Himself."

This, from Tim Keller:

"God is confident we will look back and be lost in wonder at the spectacular love that planned even our darkest moments."

If you know anything about VosKamp, Butterfield, or Keller, you know that these individuals are intimately acquainted with deep grief and disappointment. And yet their words on the topic of suffering speak of Christ, satisfaction, and hope.

Psalm 56:8 tells us that God has "stored my tears in [his] bottle and counted each one of them."

2 Corinthians 4:17 tells us that our present afflictions "are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all."

In Matthew 5:4, our Savior tells us: "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."

Psalm 136:5 says that "those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy!"

I have been thinking about grief, heartache, and disappointment this week, because someone I love dearly was deeply, deeply hurt a couple of years ago; and she spent many months in tears and heaviness of heart; and yet she did not once blame God or accuse Him of abandoning her, although others did abandon her and did blaspheme God...

I have been thinking about those many past tears, because this week...

That dear, sweet someone is all smiles. And gratitude. And joy. And sunshine. (And a little bit of sunburn, too.)

She has testified, too many times to count: "God has been so incredibly good to me."

...but joy comes in the morning.

My heart overflows with gratitude and praise.

God is SO very good indeed.

NURSING SCHOOL, PART 7

I haven't written anything here at the blog in over two months.

You know that feeling you get when you're driving across North Alabama on Highway 78 and you really need to pee and you realize you just whizzed past the last exit with facilities for the next 100 miles? And by the time you finally reach the exit this side of Birmingham that has the giant Love's gas station, your eyes are watering and the pressure on your bladder is so great that it hurts to get out of the car? So you walk into the Love's kinda hunched over, taking little baby steps, praying, "Jesus, PLEASE don't let me trip or sneeze before I reach the bathroom"?

You know THAT feeling?

That's kinda how my chest feels when I haven't been able to write for a long time.

It's good to be back.

I'll try not to pee all over you, I promise.

So, about that nursing school thing...

I AM ALIVE!!! I just survived my first semester back at school in over three decades. Loved my teachers, made new friends, enjoyed my classes, made good grades, but, MAN, am I exhausted. As one of my classmates put it, "We've been ridden hard and put back in the barn wet."

DANG, that was rough.

I am happy to report I have been officially accepted into the nursing program at UTM for fall 2019. If I survive Anatomy & Physiology 2 in June, it's all GO with the nursing classes in August. (Right now, I am trying to not stress too much about A&P2 in June. How on earth is a professor going to cram four months worth of material into one month of classes? And how on earth will I LEARN that information so quickly? Don't panic. Breathe!!!)

But first, a few short weeks to catch my breath, rest my weary old bones, and catch up on chores around the house. I haven't mopped my floors in longer than it's been since I've posted here at the blog. I want to plant the flower boxes on my porch...I guess so everything can die when I don't have time to water the plants in June. I want to visit family.

And I want to write.

I'll start today with this:

10 Things I Learned (or relearned) My First Semester Back at School:

• There are so many beautiful people in the world.
• The "different" people are the most interesting people.
• Excellent teachers work way harder than any of their students.
• God is AMAZING. (Don't believe me? Study the human body.)
• Climbing four flights of stairs in Humanities didn't really get any easier over the course of the semester.
• My daughter is a great driver, and she's really good at remembering where the car is parked.
• Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee.
• It's way too late in the game too be squeamish about talking about human genitalia in a mixed classroom full of late teens and early-20-somethings. (Just say the word, folks. Trust me: sitting there in a stare-off with Dr. Gathers and NOT saying the word is ten times more awkward.)
• School is HARD WORK and it is stressful, even for people who make good grades.
• The campus where I study is a certified arboretum. The trees are gorgeous.

Whew! I feel better already. I think I can inhale deeply and stand up straight again now.

Thank you, Loves!

NURSING SCHOOL, PART 6

No classes or work today, so I've been catching up on chores around the house. The past two months, I have learned there are certain things that simply do NOT happen when Mom goes back to school/work:

No one cleans the cat's litter box. Checked that chore off the list today. Wow. All I can say is: I am so sorry, Kitty!

No one tidies the refrigerator. I threw out several weeks' worth of bits-&-pieces of unidentifiable leftovers today. Now that I've taken the trash out, I'm thinking maybe I should have saved a few "specimens" to take to school tomorrow for Micro lab show-&-tell.

Sweeping. With only three people living here now, you'd think there would not be a lot of dirt, hair, dust bunnies, and nastioferous "drift" floating around at floor level. But you'd be wrong. Secretly, I was trying to hold out on this one...see if someone else would notice the filth and pick up a broom. But nasty floors really aren't that big a deal to anyone else in my family...just me. Today, I cracked. The floors still need a good mopping, but at least now they are no longer crunchy.

Planned menus and bought and put away groceries. Washed and folded three loads of laundry. Took out two bags of trash. Washed and put away a sink full of dishes.

Now, time to tackle homework, prep for tomorrow's labs, and study for Friday's tests. If I can stay awake and concentrate, that is.

As I was folding a load of laundry this afternoon, I got to thinking: "I need a wife!" You know, someone to do the laundry, clean the bathrooms, mop the floors, and cook a hot meal while I'm away at work and school, so I can focus on more important things when I'm at home on my "off" time.

That one silly thought woke an enormous sleeping dragon.

When I was a full-time stay-at-home mom, my work day began when my feet hit the floor in the morning, and it didn't end until long after last little one was snuggled in bed for the night. No "wife" to make sure I had clean underwear or to have a hot meal on the table for me at the end of every day. No time clock on the wall where I could check out after a long, difficult shift. It was exhausting work, but I LOVED my job.

Now that I'm "out," my work/school day begins well before the sun peeps over the eastern horizon, and it doesn't end until my engine putters completely out of steam and I crash into bed, long after the sun has set. Still no "wife" to sweep my floors or buy my groceries, and "a day off" translates into "try to cram a weeks' worth of my old job into my new schedule." This is an exhausting season of life, but you know what? I LOVE what I am doing.

So, I am thankful for time to catch up on chores around the house today, and I am praying I'll be able to stay awake enough and alert enough the rest of this day to get some serious studying done.

And, to all my sisters out there who go hard, day in and day out, with no weekends off, no paid vacations, and no wife -

You

Are

Amazing.

Now, time to make another pot of coffee and tackle Micro.

WHAT TO DO?

There are people in this world who, when they hurt you and you somehow find the courage to say "That hurt me," their response - "You're too sensitive," "You need to toughen up," "It was just a joke" - their response makes you feel guilty for being hurt, and although they were the one who threw the side punch or made the unkind comment, you end up believing you're the one who needs to apologize, for having been hurt at all.

And yet...

These same people, when you do resolve to not be so sensitive and you do "toughen up," they accuse you of being emotionally distant, so that, whether you express your emotions or you do not express your emotions, you are wrong.

Always wrong.

I understand that now...that there are such people in the world.

I understand now, but, as hard as I try, I cannot figure out what to do with that.

A SMALL THING

Today, my math teacher dedicated class time to a review session for an upcoming exam. As students filed into the classroom, I took my regular seat at the front row of tables and began unpacking my binder, calculator, etc.

"How was your weekend?" I asked the quiet young woman who sits to my right.

"Pretty good," she nodded. After she arranged her notes, paper, pencil, and calculator on the table in front of her, she stood and pulled a small purple box from her backpack. "Here," she smiled as she set something in front of me.

It was a Valentine card...you know, the little paper kind we used to trade in bulk way back in elementary school. Attached to the card, a small piece of candy.

"Wow!" I picked up the card. "Thank you!" Such a simple thing, and yet it significantly brightened my day this gray, rainy Monday.

Then, my young math neighbor stood and quietly distributed similar Valentines to every single person in the class. A whispered murmur of "Thank you!," "Cool!," "Thanks!" rippled through the room. Finally, she set a last simple Valentine on the teacher's lectern and took her seat.

And then, my teacher entered the room and we reviewed for Wednesday's test.

Fifty minutes later, chairs scraped, zippers zipped, and boots scuffed in the chaos of students leaving for another class. One young man paused at our front table before he headed out the door: "Thank you for the candy." My young friend simply smiled her quiet smile.

Dr. S glanced up from the lectern at the front corner of the room. He cocked his head to one side. "Hey..." My young neighbor turned her attention to him. "Hey..." - a broad smile lit up his face - "Thank you."

A single college professor and a roomful of anxious math students - each of us blessed by one very simple, quiet, unexpected gesture of kindness.

I learned so much more than math in class today.

NURSING SCHOOL, PART 5

A few observations four weeks into my return-to-school adventure...

• I appreciate coffee more.
• I appreciate water more.
• I appreciate wine more.
• I appreciate sleep more.
• I enjoy learning.
• I dislike assignments that must be completed on computers in the library computer lab.
• If a professor says he will be in his office at such-&-such time, and then he is not...grrrr.
• Labs are my favorite classes. :)
• It is a privilege to walk in the shadows of my children here.
• School is a nice break from work; work is a nice break from school.
• I need a housekeeper. And a cook. And a laundress. And someone to shop for groceries and to do all the bazillion and one things I used to do before I started working and going to school.

First round of exams begins next week. Wish me well!

YOU MAKE ME SMILE

I settled into my second-row seat in the lecture auditorium for Wednesday morning's Microbiology class. The professor whose class had just vacated the room stood beside the lectern in the front of the room, sorting papers and notes and packing them into his satchel.

Barrel-chested, a little on the short side, an epic beard that reached halfway to his waist, a pleasant face...the man fit the description of a professor one of my kids had enjoyed studying under a couple of years ago. As he passed in front of me, headed toward the exit, I leaned forward in my seat and ventured a guess: "Excuse me, are you Dr. P---?"

He stopped and turned to face me. "Yes, I am."

I stood and held out my hand. "I'm Camille Kendall. I am so glad to meet you, Dr. P---. I believe you taught one of my kids - Reuben."

Dr. P---'s countenance brightened. "Why, yes! How is Reuben doing?" he asked as he grasped my hand and shook it vigorously. "Where is he now?" I gave Dr. P--- a quick update on my son, then Dr. P--- continued: "I still have a few specimens with Reuben's name on them. Every time I look at them, I smile. Please, tell Reuben I asked about him," he beamed, "and that I say 'Hello!'"

* * *

When I mentioned my son's name, his former professor's face lit up like sunshine. This happens not infrequently, this response to "I'm Reuben's mom." It happens, too, when I say, "I'm (Emily/Nate/Tom/Ben/Martha/Helen)'s mom."

All of this to say...

Dear children of mine -

Scripture commands: "Honor your father and mother..." (Exodus 20:12). Everyone single one of you has done that. Each time I encounter someone else whose life you have impacted, I am astounded at the great honor with which you have blessed me.

Thank you. I am deeply grateful. And, I am deeply humbled...such honor from those who best know my frailties!

Thank you.

And, I love you.

You beautiful people make me feel like the richest woman on earth.

Wow...this was six taken six grand-babies ago!

NURSING SCHOOL, PART 4

I slept in until 7:00 this morning. Usually, I'm up at 5:00 a.m. ...or earlier. Today, the sun stood well above the eastern horizon when I rolled out of bed, bright daylight on white snow.

I spent the entire day in my pajamas. I don't know if I have ever spent an entire day in my pajamas before in my life. (Maybe one or two days when I was sick?) Usually, I am up and dressed before dawn.

I spent almost the entire day on the sofa. Read Chapter 1 out of my Anatomy & Physiology textbook, dozed, up long enough to cook and eat lunch and start a load of laundry, back on the sofa to review concepts and vocabulary. Now, tapping away on the computer. Need to cook dinner and make progress in A&P Chapter 2 before I call it a day. Do NOT need to change before I head to bed. Win!

What I have NOT done today:

Cleaned the bathroom.

Mopped the floors.

Taken out the trash.

Put away the laundry. (I'll get around to it!)

Guess I'm making the adjustment to college-student life pretty well.

I shared earlier this week on Facebook, but want to share again here at the blog, a few of the challenges I've encountered as a non-traditional student:

1. Keeping a straight face when professors make comments like, "You probably covered this in high school, but I want to do a quick review." Two of my professors have apologized to their classes for a beginning-of-semester chemistry review. Apologized! Are you serious?! "I'm sorry if you find this boring or repetitive, but..." The last time I studied chemistry was 35 years ago. Sister, I NEED this review. DO NOT APOLOGIZE!

2. Climbing four flights of stairs and NOT wheezing like a geezer at the top. I begin each math class hoping that my instructor will not call on me for at least the first 10 minutes of class. I need time to catch my breath. Obviously, I also need to make hiking to the fourth floor of Humanities multiple times three days a week part of my routine fitness regimen.  Man, by the end of the semester, I'd be a BEAST!

3. Going three hours without a bathroom break. Folks, at 54 years of age, after seven pregnancies and after giving birth to seven babies, this is SERIOUS. On Facebook, folks assured me that, in college, it is okay to leave the classroom if need to use the restroom. NOT. For two reasons: first off, I cannot overstate how badly I need this chemistry review; second, despite the fact that all of my professors are younger than I am (one is literally young enough to be my child), I am confident that any one of the three would nail me to the wall if I stood up to leave the room during lecture.

4. Remembering where you parked the car when you come out of class. Two days a week, I ride to campus with my daughter. I LOVE carpooling. I love the conversation, the music jam sessions, the stops for coffee...and I especially love that it's her job to remember where the car is parked. She's really good at that.

Me, not so much. Fridays, I drive myself to campus. I came out of my last class this past Friday and had a mini panic attack when I realized I had absolutely NO IDEA where I had parked the van. Across from Administration? Behind the library? Next to the University Center? Almost a thousand commuter parking spaces on the UTM campus, and I had no idea which one I had parked in that morning.

Thankfully, by the time I finished studying the afternoon away in the library, most of the other students had left campus. When I stood and began putting my books away, I glanced out the second-floor library windows and spotted my lonely van waiting far away at the end of the lot beside the UC. (Thank you, Jesus!)

Lesson learned, fellow non-traditionals:

STUDY.

Studying late each afternoon helps you find your vehicle when you forget where you parked that morning.

Plus, studying just might make it easier to dredge up some of that chemistry you learned 35 years ago.

THE BEST KIND OF FRIENDS

Bathed in prayer.

That's about the best way I can think to describe the past several months of my life.

Just over two years ago, a couple of friends and I began meeting together every other week to pray for one another. There is something incredibly soul-strengthening about hearing a sister pray your name out loud to the Father. Those coffee shop prayer meetings have been life-changing for me.

Praying friends are the best kind of friends.

Recent posts here at the blog have been about my journey to return to school to pursue a degree in nursing. Every single step of that journey has been prayed over by sisters who know and love me well. Week after week, they have taken my questions, doubts and struggles straight to the throne room of God; week after week, we have rejoiced together at the amazing way God has answered those prayers.

But last time we met, it wasn't the prayers for my family or prayers about school or work that touched my heart the deepest. It was a prayer that I had not even requested:

"God, as she is busy with the demands of work and school and family, please give Camille time in her schedule to write."

This friend understands how important writing is to me and has often encouraged me to develop and use this gift. I haven't mentioned my writing in months at our little prayer meetings - too preoccupied with more pressing matters - but my faithful friend has not forgotten. Her unsolicited prayer assured me that God has not forgotten either.

Praying friends...these are the best kind of friends.

For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them. - Matthew 18:20

NURSING SCHOOL, PART 3

In NURSING SCHOOL, PART 1, I shared how God removed multiple hurdles to pave the way for me to go to school. At the end of that first post, one hurdle remained...

When I started my new job last summer, I had two financial goals:

• Build an emergency fund for medical expenses in case my youngest or I ever need to see a doctor.
• Save to purchase a reliable vehicle. (Currently, I drive my middle daughter's van, which she will need back when she and her family return from Japan later this month. When the van is not available, my father-in-law has offered to let me drive his farm truck until I can save up enough for my own set of wheels.) 

Saving pretty much everything I made, I checked the first goal off in four months. Then, I began working on Goal #2.

Paying for school was NOT one of my financial goals. Last summer, school had not even crossed my mind. Then came that conversation in the library with my friend, and a seed was planted.

After clearing all previous hurdles, finally convinced that this school thing was something God really meant for me to pursue, I registered for spring classes.

"Now, God, how am I supposed to pay for this?"

I had until the Tuesday before classes started to pay fees. If God didn't make something plain to me by then, I would lose my classes. I had to depend on God to keep opening the doors.

I re-evaluated my financial situation. Since starting the new job, I have saved almost everything I've earned. What if I saved only half of each paycheck?

Well, it would take much longer to save for a vehicle, for starters. Since I'll be using my father-in-law's truck, will he mind? I do not want to presume upon his generosity.

Will half my paycheck be enough to cover fees?

I crunched the numbers. If I applied every single dollar I made at work to school fees, it would just barely cover tuition. What about books? What about transportation/gas? What about unexpected expenses?

"God, if this is really what You want me to do, You are going to have to make a way for it to work."

I prayed and waited, crunched the numbers again, prayed and waited. Every time I checked into my UTM account, I was chagrined by the bright red ! and the notice that I needed to pay fees in order to confirm my classes so that I wouldn't be dropped.

"God? Are you sure this is what you want me to do?"

Then, an unexpected grant that covered almost a quarter of my fees, making my balance considerably lower. I crunched the numbers again.

"God?"

Then, my son-in-law gifted me with the loan of a wealth of textbooks for Anatomy & Physiology and Microbiology.

School looked almost possible.

!

"God?"

"Mom, don't worry about a vehicle or gas. I'll cover that. We can carpool." Mondays and Wednesdays, my youngest and I have classes at the same time. Fridays and work days, I can borrow the van or the truck.

!

"God?"

I received a card two weeks ago. On the front, in big letters: "THANK YOU."

Inside: "Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday for the next few years..." The sender had heard that I was thinking about going back to school. He went on to say that since I helped him with his education when he was a young man, he wanted to help me pursue my education now. This unexpected benefactor and his wife had created a fund to help offset my school fees. (I am stunned, humbled and grateful.)

The ! is gone from my account now.

Classes began last Friday, and we hit the ground running. I am going to have to work my tail off to keep up, folks, but I am so excited - this is going to be an awesome semester!

God is so very gracious to this timid daughter of his. I keep coming back - "God?" - and He keeps saying, "Yes, I'm right here."

NURSING SCHOOL, PART 2

In my last post, I shared how God opened doors and cleared hurdles on my journey toward nursing school. One reason I am writing about this journey here at the blog is to document - for myself, so I won't forget - all the incredible things I have seen God do over the past couple of months. I ended that last post with one hurdle standing. But before I tell you how God cleared that hurdle, I want to share...

Over and over through this months-long process, I have thought: "This is crazy. It doesn't make any sense. I am too old to go back to school. I'll be retirement age before I even graduate!" And over and over, I have thought: "God, do I understand you right? Do I even need to be pursuing this? Am I completely nuts?!"

And over and over again, this:

One day in town, I met a man - a complete stranger - who began chatting to me about his family: "My wife went back to school recently, says it's the best decision she ever made. She absolutely loves her job now. When I asked her if she had any thoughts of retiring any time soon, she said, 'No way!'"

"That's awesome," I replied. The fellow looked about my age, so I assumed his wife was about my age, too. "If you don't mind my asking, how old was your wife when she went back to school?"

"She was 55 when she went back to school. Took her several years to finish, but she stuck in there and got it done."

"Wow, that's incredible. What did she study?"

"Nursing. Loves it. She absolutely loves it."

This man had never met me, knew nothing about me. He had no idea I was thinking about going back to school, no idea I was thinking about studying nursing, too. No idea that that particular morning, I was on the verge of talking myself out of the whole crazy idea. It was like God put us in the same place, at the same time, for some kind of divine appointment.

ME: "Are you sure this is what you want me to do, God? I'm too old for this. This is crazy! Are you sure?"
GOD: "Yes. I'm sure."

Then there was the time I sat in Julie's chair at the salon. A middle-aged man came in and sat down across from me to wait his turn for a haircut. He was wearing scrubs.

"Do you work at Baptist?" I asked in an effort at conversation.

"Yes, I'm a nurse." He went on to explain how, after decades at a factory job, he decided to go back to school to study nursing. "Best decision I ever made. I love my work," he offered. "In fact, I'm planning on going back to school to take even more classes in the spring. I love this field, and I want to learn more."

This man had never met me, knew nothing about me. He had no idea I was thinking about going back to school, no idea I was thinking about studying nursing, too. No idea that that particular afternoon, I was on the verge of talking myself out of the whole crazy idea. It was like God put us in the same place, at the same time, for some kind of divine appointment.

ME: "Are you sure this is what you want me to do, God? I'm too old for this. This is crazy! Are you sure?"
GOD: "Yes. I'm sure."

Friends, this exact scenario has played out half-a-dozen times over the past six weeks. Every time my confidence has flagged, God has created a "divine appointment" to tell me again, "Yes. I'm sure."

God is so very kind and patient with this timid daughter of his.

I'm not sure where this will lead, but I am certain God wants me to take the next step forward. Timid or not, I will take it.

Now, about that last hurdle...

NURSING SCHOOL, PART 1

It's been rather quiet here at the blog. Life's been....interesting.

A month and a half ago, I shared how a friend challenged to me to imagine possibilities, rather than to think only in terms of impossibilities. (You can read that post here: UN-LEARNING "NO".) So, I've been imagining possibilities, and pushing into them. Today, and in the next few posts, I want to share some of what that process has looked like for me.

* * *

Beth had heard about my new job at the hospital, working as an assistant in the lab. "How's that going?" she asked.

"I absolutely LOVE it!" I exclaimed. "Even on my worst days, I still think, Man, I love my job!"

"So, have you given any thought to doing more, taking this job to the next level?" she asked. "Have you thought about maybe going back to school?"

"At my age?" I looked at Beth in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

I have never felt like a college degree was necessary for my success or happiness. Nor have I ever entertained any desire to pursue a professional career. I'm a mom and a writer; I am truly happy with that. Now, I also work at the lab; I like that, too. That really is enough for me. Besides, if I went back to school, I'd be nearly 60 years old by the time I graduated - ridiculous!

That's when Beth challenged me to think in terms of possibilities, instead of dismissively insisting that further education was ridiculous and impossible.

Beth's suggestion incubated several days before I gave it serious thought. Hmmm, what might I be interested in studying, IF I went back to school? What kind of programs are available in my area? How long do they take? How much do they cost? What difference would a degree make in my job options, my quality of life, etc.?

I prayed. "God, this idea is completely ludicrous. If this is something you want me to pursue, you are going to have to make that perfectly clear to me. And, you are going to have to work out all the details."

I started poking around online, made some phone calls to schools, talked to coworkers at the hospital. A seed began to grow. "IF I went back to school, given education options available locally, I think I might want to study nursing. BUT..."

And I had a long list of Buts.

First hurdle: could I go to school AND continue working at the lab? If my work schedule did not allow time for classes at the local university - or - if my class schedule did not allow me to be a useful employee at the lab, school was a No-Go. I seriously love my job - I am not quitting my job to attend classes, no way.

I needed to talk to my supervisor at work. I knocked on Mrs. Linda's door, certain she would think I was out of my ever-loving mind. "Mrs. Linda, can I talk to you about something?"

Well, not only did Linda NOT think I was crazy for entertaining the notion of going back to school, she encouraged the idea enthusiastically! She assured me that schedule conflicts would not be an issue: "When you know your class schedule, get back with me and we'll figure out a compatible work schedule. I'm really excited for you!"

But the work-school hurdle was only the first of many hurdles. School was still a long way from GO.

Second hurdle: would the university credit previous coursework from when I was a teenage college student, way back in the Paleolithic Age? I have 169 credit hours of college classes, folks, and I absolutely refuse to take another English composition, world history, or calculus class. If the university would not apply previous general education credits, school would be a No-Go. "God, if this is something you want me to do, you are going to have to work out the details concerning my previous coursework."

I met with an adviser at the University, who looked over my written-with-a-quill-pen-on-parchment transcripts. "Mmmm. Well, before you apply for our program, it looks like you'll need to take..."

We haggled. We pulled up college catalogs from the archive databases of schools I previously attended. I developed a tense online relationship with folks at the registrar's office.

After a harangue of transcript evaluations, emails, and phone calls, I received the university's verdict: all of my previous coursework relevant to the university's nursing program would be credited toward my.degree. The only classes I needed in order to be eligible to apply to the nursing program were two semesters of anatomy & physiology and one semester of microbiology.

"You can take those classes next year, take your admission test next winter, then possibly enter our nursing program the fall of 2020," my adviser suggested.

Hurdle #3: if I have to wait a year and a half to begin, school is a No-Go. I am no spring chicken, friend, and I'm not getting any younger. If the ball doesn't start rolling right away, there's a good chance I'll die of old age before I have time to complete a degree!

"What if I take A&P1 and Micro in the spring, then A&P2 in the summer?" I asked my adviser. "If I do that, I can begin the nursing program next fall."

She wasn't optimistic. "A&P is not always offered during summer term. Besides, you'd still have to take the nursing school entrance exam. For admission fall 2019, the entrance exam is next month. Slots fill up quickly, and there may not be any spots left."

I checked with the biology department. Yes, they were planning to offer A&P2 during the summer 2019 session. That left...

Hurdle #4: Nursing School Entrance Exam. I haven't taken an exam in almost 30 years, so this hurdle kind of freaked me out. I looked at sample exams online: the English and math components would be a piece of cake, thanks to homeschooling my kids; the science component, however, was heavily A&P-based, and this was a class I had never taken.

I clicked on the link to register for the exam online: one slot available in December, and it just happened to be on a day I wasn't scheduled to work at the hospital. "God, you got this covered, too?" I paid the fee, but a knot of doubt tightened in my stomach.

God laid that doubt to rest: I scored well above the cut-off score required for admission to the nursing program. Relieved and elated, I ran from the testing center straight to my adviser's office and laid the test results on her desk. She looked up at me and smiled.

Now, only one hurdle left...