Welp....I'm A Diabetic

 Two weeks ago I was diagnosed as being a Type 2 Diabetic. I knew it was coming as I am a nurse after all. The symptoms were there....fatigue, flushed face, increased urination and bowel movements. I was 43 wearing Depends because I couldn't keep up with my body's need to get rid of sugar by any means necessary.

So here I am 2 weeks later. I've been on the Keto Diet for 9 days and man has it been the longest 9 days of my life. What have I learned so far? I'm a sugar addict. There have been multiple times I have had to be talked of the ledge of binge eating sugar to get my fix. I have also learned that I can over come my cravings...they don't have to control me but I need help and support. 

Luckily I have a very supportive husband and mom to talk me off of the ledge before shoving a pop tart into my mouth. I am also supported by the company I work for who provide a diabetic support program called Virta. I have coaching and medical professionals that problem solve and support me when I feel I am going to lose it if I don't put a carbohydrate into body.

To date my blood sugars have come down from 262 to the 150-130's and I have lost 6 pounds. I take a weekly shot to help my pancreas utilize the insulin that it already makes. Once a day I weigh myself, prick my finger to get my blood glucose reading and ketosis level, and I log my numbers daily as well as my food/water intake. It's a process and takes time but as someone who has seen the havoc that diabetes can wreak on an individual, it is worth it. I'm worth it. 

God's Love Is Immeasurable...

"The love of God is like the ocean, you can see its beginnings, but you cannot imagine its width and depth. God loves you immensely in a way you can never imagine"- Ritu Ghatourey

Have you ever stood at the edge of the ocean, looked out, and contemplated its vastness? I mean,  really thought about the reality that you cannot see the other side? As I was walking along the beach this evening I did just that and I understood why the vastness of the sea is such a great metaphor for the love God has for us. 

As I stood in the sand this evening watching the sun go down over my beautiful state of South Carolina, it became obvious that I couldn't see the end of the ocean....its just kept going and going. If I walked a few steps forward into the ocean I was still not able to see where this beautiful body of water ended, and if I took a few steps backwards into the dunes the edge of the ocean stayed unchanged-immeasurable. Did you see what I did there? Stepping forward or stepping back, stepping towards or stepping away from God, like the edge of the ocean, does not change the amount of His love. It is constant. It is immeasurable. 

As humans we try to quantify the love of God. We try to say to others and often to ourselves, if I did or did not do a certain action, God's love would increase or decrease accordingly. That is wrong. God's love is absolutely NOT quantifiable. It is, however, qualifiable- a yes or no answer...and I promise you no matter how hard you try to make God love you more or less, the amount of love He has for you never changes- it just is. 

Next time you are at the seaside (shout out to England) stand at the edge of the ocean, breathe deep and just look across the water...see the other side? You can't because the ocean goes on forever and so does the love of the Father for His children. Even you. And even me.

I AM a mother...

I Am A Mother

As my circle of friends without children has grown smaller and my circle of friends who are unmarried grows even smaller yet, I find myself meditating on my current state in life. Single. No children. And to be honest I’m not even sure if I am called to marriage (enough bad relationships will make any girl question her vocation).  But I do know I am called to be a mother, or better said, TO mother.

I am a mother hen by nature. I can’t help it. When I ask someone how he or she is I mean it. How ARE you, really, on the inside? I feel the need to feed. And I worry whether a person knows how much they are loved as they are, where ever they are.  And while most women my age are hearing the “tick, tick” of their biological clock I have come to a beautiful place only by the grace of God, and that place is an understanding that even though no one calls me “Mama” I am a mother to many whether they know it or not.

I have many Goddaughters. They range from age 1 to 70+ years old and are spread across the globe from here in South Carolina to the Nuba Mountains of Sudan. I am called to pray for them, to encourage them in their faith/faith formation, and to be an example of holiness to the best of my ability (I fail miserably at this one).  I AM their spiritual mother.

On any given night at the hospital I take care of between 10 and 20 patients as a nurse assistant. For some I simply float silently in and out of their room to take vital signs. For others, I listen to their stories of fear, frustration, and victory as they battle whatever illness brought them through our hospital doors. And for a few, I am the last hand they hold, the last face they see, or the last voice they hear as they step across the threshold into heaven. I AM their nursing mother.

There are many forms of illness in our world and I have a great amount of compassion for those who suffer from the diseases that cannot be seen. When they speak of wanting to be free from the memories that haunt them I understand. When they choose destructive lifestyles I can grasp this is simply a way to numb the pain they feel. And when they feel abandoned by their friends, family, or even God I nod my head because I know. I AM their suffering mother.

Everyday I am blessed to be a mother. It has brought me great joy these past months to realize that I can be and am a mother. Like our own mothers and THE holy Mother, I rejoice, grieve, and encourage alongside “my children” and for “my children.” I am thankful for the example Mother Mary gave and I am even more thankful that Christ gave her to us ALL when he hung on the cross (John 19: 27- Then He said to the disciple, “Behold your mother.” And from that day forward the disciple took her into his home.) Being a mother is beyond genetics. It is about offering oneself to others unconditionally the way Mama Mary offers herself to us, her children, in every moment of our lives.

I AM a spiritual, nursing, suffering mother. 

This White Girl Can Dance

"My boy asks me how do u dance with a white girl, I reply just stand there bc she never gonna be on the same beat as the music #TrueStory"

The above tweet was the source of my latest "ah-ha" moment. As soon as I read this I defended white people everywhere and argued the stigma that we (white folk) do not know how to dance. There were a few more back and forth tweets with the final line from the instigator being "cute tho u standing up i admire that!"

And THAT was the source of my eureka moment...standing up!

In nursing school we are taught many theories and practices, one of which being the patient's advocate. Nurses are the last line of defense for a patient. It is the nurse that administers medications, therefore nurses are the last line of knowledge on the safety of the medication being ordered and the last person who can directly question the provider. Nurses are also the ones that spend the most time with the patient and notice the "little" changes that can quickly turn into big, life threatening situations.

Questioning a provider on any order, medication or otherwise takes guts....cajones if you will. However, there is no room for timidity in the nursing role. Nurses must be willing to advocate for their patients and family..to be the voice of holistic care in the patient's best interest.

I also thought about places in my own life, outside of my dance moves, where I have and still need to "stand up" for myself. Believe it or not have made leaps and bounds in the boy department with standing up and requiring to be treated for the woman I am. But there are still areas where I have SO much work to do. My best and yet most terrible fault is the fact that I put myself last....emotionally, physically, etc. But as my wise friend says, "You can't be a nurse if you are dead." So it is imperative for myself to "stand up". Saying "no" when I need to without guilt (which will be hard....I am Catholic after all) To do what I need to do to be the healthiest me I can be. If I can't stand up for me, how can I stand up for my future patients?

As I continue the path to becoming a Registered Nurse I can't help but think of our veterans and their families. Will I have the strength and courage to speak up, especially related to PTSD? Will I be able to do what ever it takes to get our vets not only what they need but what they deserve? There is much bureaucracy within "the system", I know this from my experiences in Washington DC and even here in Beaufort.

I can dance...I really can! And I didn't hesitate to defend my white girl dance moves. That is small potatoes...but sometimes you have to start small and work your way up from there. Today white girl dancing, tomorrow, standing up for my own health. And the day after that? Pushing the envelope so our veterans can get the health care they need and deserve.

My Breaking Heart

Here is a recent documentary on the situation in the Nuba Mountains. The last 6 minutes are about Mother of Mercy Hospital where I served...I never worked with Dr. Tom as we went to relieve him, but I did work and live with the 2 sisters that are filmed. 

The only thing that will stop this genocide is international pressure. As you will be able to see from the documentary, the government is not targeting the SPLA (Sudanese People's Liberation Army) but the civilian population. The famine is a man made famine focused on killing the Nuba people because they refuse to accept the customs of the Arabs (note I did not say Muslim as many Nuba are Muslim). 

I wish I could adequately express to you what this does to my heart. When I heard the children singing at "school" my heart leapt for joy but as you will see that is short lived. Upon returning from Sudan, I said that I had left half my heart there...well that half of my heart is being broken. 

The Nuba people just want to be Nuba.

Please, pray for my Sudan!

Documentary on the Nuba Mountains

My First Year of Nursing School

There are 21 days left in this semester...I had 2 exams this week. I have 3 next week and then finals begin.

Needless to say I am ready for a break...not from nursing but from nursing school. I am exhausted both mentally and emotionally. To be totally honest I am bordering on being burnt out. School is VERY difficult for me. I am a multi-sensory learner so a professor standing in front of me lecturing sounds very much like the teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoons. I need pictures, diagrams, and to actually execute the task with my own hands to grasp the concept.

Nursing school and nursing exams are unlike anything you have ever experienced...as the bumper sticker on my car says "Nursing School Is Not For Sissies" There is much truth and wisdom in this statement. In nursing school they don't want to know if you know what a disease IS, they want to know that you know how to "nurse" the symptoms of the disease. Have I lost you yet?

Example: Patient comes into the ER short of breath, the practitioner diagnosis pneumonia, and prescribes antibiotics. As the nurse you are watching the multiple symptoms of the disease...yes its important that the patient has an infection in their lungs but that's the practitioner's problem. What the nurse is looking for is that the lungs are getting clearer, adequate nutrition is being received, oxygen is at a good level, and the antibiotics are being administered on time...ugh, the things that can go wrong with antibiotics are numerous including anaphylactic shock=BAD.

So that's what I'm learning....they call it "critical thinking." That is, seeing a number of problems, putting them in order of importance, and responding appropriately. And sometimes all that must be done in a matter of seconds...seconds that could mean life or death for a patient-ugh, no pressure, right?

I have, however, learned a lot about myself in this first year...

1) I really don't know a lot about sex...I'm not sure who gets more entertained by my questions, my professors or my fellow students.

2) I do not want to be a labor and delivery nurse...hurry up and wait-not my style, plus, screaming women and crying babies stress me out

3) I can function on 3 hours of sleep a night for multiple nights in a row...I may be grumpy but I can function

4) If needs be I can and will crawl onto a patient's hospital bed to administer heart compressions during CPR

5) I can put in a foley catheter (a sterile procedure) without breaking the sterile field and having to start all over...that's a big deal! I've heard stories of students running through multiple pairs of sterile gloves before their professor steps in

6) I am able to leave my emotions outside of the hospital and be a hard ass if I need to be- this is a grace from heaven, however, don't mistake this for leaving my love at the door, which I don't...this grace of seperation will make it possible for me to be a good trauma/combat nurse one day

7) I see Christ in EVERY patient I care for...it is a honor to do the smallest task for them (I haven't had a patient with c-diff yet, so I could re-neg on this one)

8) I really do have every disease that we have covered so far in class with the exception of anorexia...I have managed to dodge that bullet

9) I can't manage nursing school and boys....I just don't have the skills for that nor the expertise...who knew the way to run a boy off was, after he asks for your number, to tell him you won't sleep with him

10) I CAN do this!- I will be a nurse. I will care for our veterans in the VA system. I will return to Gidel, Sudan to serve my brother's and sister's whom I love. I will, if needed, be prepared to care for our wounded warriors in a combat zone. I WILL BE A NURSE!

3 semesters and 21 days left...

Confession

I have wanted to write on my blog more but I always worry about the content. Will people judge me if they really knew what went on inside my head?

Let's face it, I've probably ruined my chances of ever being President of the United States with my "drunk texts" and "drunk voicemails" alone (come on laugh...y'all know you like when you get a VM or text from me that makes no sense).

I kind of had an "ah-ha" moment this week about myself....and I since I am unsure if anyone actually reads what I write on here anyway, I figure this is a safe place to share this eureka moment....I mean, who wants to be President of the United States anyway?

I don't watch romance movies. There I said it.

On a good day I can handle a "rom com" such as "Fever Pitch" but even in that movie the main female character gets pegged in the forehead with a fly baseball. But movies such as "The Vow" or "Water for Elephants"? No flippin' way! Even when MizW and I saw "Hunger Games" last night I said to her, "they ruined a perfectly good thriller with young love"

Want to know the way to my heart? "Jarhead" "Hurt Locker" "Transformers" Bombs, guns, and medical trauma.

I believe my deep dislike of romance movies comes from fear of the unknown.

See, I've never been on an ACTUAL date or as one of my girlfriends calls it "courted" (you know, boy comes to door with flowers, girl comes down the stairs in beautiful dress, boy drives girl to restaurant for dinner, boy PAYS for dinner, boy drives girl home and ask if he can see her again even before she gets out of the car) or experienced romance, unless you count my prom date but he just picked me up and brought me home. Oh, and I once received yellow roses from a group of my male USMC friends for my birthday but I am pretty sure that does not count as romance either...

Just like sky diving or bungee jumping, I want to experience romance, go on a date etc...I want to be open to it. But when I think about letting my heart be vulnerable, I start to hyperventilate and my stomach hurts...like I want to throw up hurt.

I LOVE being a girl, don't get me wrong. I have party dresses and I like to wear them. As every southern girl should, I wear pearls, have monogrammed jewelry, and own a set of Vera Bradley luggage. But being swept of my feet like Scarlett in "Gone With the Wind"? I don't know what that's like and I'd be more comfortable shooting an RPG or experiencing what an exploding grenade is like.

I do know that I want and deserve someone who is not ashamed of his love for me...who would shout it from the roof tops (or twitter/Facebook/what ever is handy) that I am his. He would publicly profess to take care of me, to never hurt me, or leave me....does this sort of thing happen in real life? See why I don't watch romance movies? My imagination is already off and running.

Tonight, I thought about watching "Tuck Everlasting" but I couldn't bring myself to do it, so instead, I'm going to watch a bunch of hockey players beat the crap out of each other in "Miracle."

Until next time....

I Wish I Could Flip You The Bird

I have started and restarted this post probably 5 times over the last week trying to decide what to write about...I really wanted to write-I have lots on my mind these days.

I know that God made us all unique and special...the Word of God taught us that didn't it? I really struggle however with some of the character traits that God gave to me. Sometimes my cross gets so heavy that I wonder if God has forgotten me.

God gave me the gift to love. He also gave me this terrible naivety that because I am "good and honest" that everyone that comes into my life is "good and honest."

I open my heart to all that I come into contact with and love them as I hope God would want me to. When I ask someone how they are, I REALLY want to know how they are and I wonder if they feel loved and know they are loved. I was picked on a lot as a kid and had some really harsh things said to me repeatedly and the terrible thing about words is they are forever. I know how those words made me feel then, how they make me feel when they are said to me now, and I wouldn't wish that feeling on my worst enemy.

Sadly, this desire to love others has opened me up to a world of hurt. As someone once put it, I trust people with 120% of my heart and it goes down from there, when I should be trusting people with 30% of my heart and let them work up from there.

I wish I was tough like other people. I wish I had a wall a mile thick that people had to penetrate in order to earn my trust. I wish I could be selfish and think of myself first. I wish it didn't hurt when people say/do things that they promised they wouldn't do. I wish I could simply flip the world the bird and be on my way.

But I can't. Its who I am...It makes me the woman that can hold a baby with a disfigurement and see nothing but beauty. It makes me the woman who can hold the hands of the dying and know that soon they will be in paradise. It makes me the woman who would, without a doubt, walk away from the comfort of the US to serve the forgotten in a 3rd world country or join our military on a FOB as a civilian combat nurse.

Some days I just ask God to please make me different...tougher, stronger. Some days I ask God to send me an earthly protector who will see how God made me, embrace it, and protect it from being taken advantage of. And other days I ask God to protect me from those who will take advantage of the heart that He has given me...but mostly I ask Him to make me tougher and stronger.

If you are friends with me this will make sense...if not then this will be non-sense to you...either way, please be gentle with me. More than likely I love you in some capacity and long only for you to do the same in return.

Until next time...

Thanksgiving 2011

Thanksgiving....its a dichotomy of a holiday. On one hand you are longing to reunite with your family, extended and otherwise, and then you get there are reminded how dysfunctional they are and count down the days until you return home.

I have much to be thankful for this year and as I haven't blogged in a while I thought this would be the perfect time to write them down.

1. My Values: people out there may not agree with my view on life issues( from the womb to the tomb), my love of the Catholic church and the teachings of the Magisterium, or other "hot" social topics but at least I KNOW what I believe and why. When I attend the "March for Life" every January I don't do it for the sight seeing opportunity...I do it because I believe in life and the value that it has. I joined the Patriot Guard Riders not because I look great in leather but because I love our military and believe in protecting their honor from crazazy people. I wonder if the "occupy' people even know what they are occupying for.

2.Our Military: Yes, I am thankful for every man and woman who has and will volunteer to serve in our military...but what I am more thankful for is living in a military town for the past 12 years. Every day I am awaken by the sounds of future Marines on Parris Island practicing on the rifle range. Some people may find gunfire disturbing...but I find it comforting. Just across the water from my home are men and women who are apart of or training to be apart of the most elite fighting force in the world, the United States Marines. I have faces, memories, and experiences of real Marines whom I call friends. Our military is not some phantom force that I hear about in the news, but they are my friends...dear friends, who have helped shape me into the patriotic woman that I am today. The greatest gift I ever received is my Ka-Bar from my Marine friends...even though I am a lowly civilian, it reminds me that I have friends in high and important places who are "the few, and the proud."

3. Co-Nursing Students (Friends): The Lowcountry can be a lonely place...it is a transient town filled with a lot of retired folks. However, I have made friends with some of the most amazing women through nursing school. These women are not only RN students, but they are mothers and wives. I only have to worry about myself but they worry about not only themselves but their families. We support and encourage one another. We want each other to succeed and I believe that anyone of them, like me, would do just about anything to help the other succeed in school. We laugh together, cry together, and for many of us pray for one another. We each love God in a special way and take one another's burdens to Him as Sisters in Christ. I look forward to class and clinical NOT just because of the learning experience but because I get to be with my friends.

4. Trials and Tribulations: James 1:2-4, 12- "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith devolops perseverance. Perseverance must finish it's work so that you will be mature and complete, not lacking anything. Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will recieve the crown of life that God has pormised to those who love him." Need I say more?

5. My Parents: When I came home from the convent I felt defeated and like a failure. I felt as if I had gone through a divorce except it was worse because it was Jesus. There are somethings that only parents can endure with the unconditional love that parents give...and this was one of them. They let me grieve and find my way. They encouraged me to go back to school and pledged their support, emotionally and financially, while I per sued my RN degree. Although they are not religious people, they know that I am, and through their gentle words, as I went through the grieving process, they reminded me that the Church has always been a source of comfort for me. But they let me return to Mother Church on my time. Like all parents they want the best for their children and when I feel so very behind in life compared to my contemporaries, they remind me of all that I have accomplished and not to compare myself to others.

6. My Birth-Parents: They gave me life...they could have chosen abortion, but they chose life. That is all.

7. Confidence: I am thankful for the growing confidence that I am gaining. I don't intend to sound prideful but I am learning that I am a pretty cool chick. The reason that I am thankful for this is it has slowly given me the confidence to demand to be treated as that by others (mostly men that I date). I dated a boy for about a year and I lacked such confidence that I allowed him to treat me in an unacceptable manor. I felt as if I had nothing to offer him and that I was lucky that he was interested in me. But through the "drama" that ensued from our relationship I learned a lot about myself. I may be shaped like a paler version of Queen Latifah but that in no way diminish my worth as a woman...lets face it, she is kind of smokin' hot. I was just inducted into Phi Theta Kappa because I am smart (God given smart but smart just the same). I earned a spot in a nursing program that receives hundreds of applicants and they choose only the best. I have traveled to 3rd world countries to spread the love of God and one day hope to serve our men and women in uniform as a DOD Combat RN. All of these things have given me the confidence to see myself as the kick ass woman God has made me and to demand respect from any man who wishes to court me.

8. Youth Ministry: I am thankful for the opportunity to volunteer with the youth in my parish. They keep me young, they keep me hip, and allow me to share the love of Christ. I own many pairs of TOMS and unnecessary scarves (I have yet to give into skinny jeans) so that I can be fashionable just like them and well, feel kind of cool.

9. Reese's Peanut Butter Cups: They keep me fueled during late night study sessions and calm during stressful moments. In general they make an all over more pleasant interacting with SM experience.

10. Beer: Benjamin Franklin said it best-"In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is freedom, in water there is bacteria."

This Thanksgiving I encourage you to make your own list of things that you are thankful for...it can help put our "first world" life into perspective.

Happy Thanksgiving.

The Nuba Mountains

As you know, the Nuba Mountains of Sudan, Africa hold a special place in my heart. What I experienced there, although I have tried, has never been adequately expressed in words...it changed my life.

What most people don't know is they are in the middle of a war between the the governments of the North and the South. Sudan is set to succeed into two states, the North and the South. However, the North is less then willing to let go of the Southern portion of the country as that is where the oil is.

The people of Gidel are a peaceful and loving people...Muslim, Tribal, and Christians all living together in peace. However, they are stuck in a horrible place...the middle.

Please pray for my Sudan. My friends are there and I hoped (and still hope) to return there once I am finished with nursing school. It holds a piece of my heart...

You won't hear about the war on US TV or read about it in our the papers...I don't know why but you won't.

Please, as the people of the Nuba Mountains suffer, pray for them, pray for their children. The Northern government bombed schools before...I have no doubt they will do it again.

Pride

Today's readings are centered around Lazarus....not Jesus' BFF but Lazarus the beggar (Luke 16:19-31).

There is a beautiful meditation in the Magnificat (shout out) that says the meaning of Lazarus name is "boethou'menos"- one who has been helped. I was struck deep at the meditation as it says the rich man was guilty of nothing more than pride....but what a horrible repercussion to his pride...not only was the rich man sent to an eternity of damnation but an eternity knowing that in all probability his brothers would follow. What a horrible burden!

But the saddest realization is that the opportunity for the rich man to "rid himself" from the sin of pride was before him on a daily basis. The reason Lazarus sat at the gate of the rich man was to hold the rich man accountable. Lazarus could have sat in a dark corner hiding his sores, filth, and even his deep longing to eat just the scraps that fell from the rich man's table but instead Lazarus was in plain site of the rich man day after day...which if you think about it is actually an act of mercy on the part of Lazarus. By sitting at the rich man's gate Lazarus offered with humility a constant means for the rich man to be relieved of his sin of pride and enter the kingdom of heaven.

We are called to have mercy on one another and to help each other carry our cross. We are called to examine our interactions with humanity and how we are relieving one another's sufferings. We may not see beggars covered with sores at our gates but everyday we pass by those who are suffering whether that be in body or mind. And it is our responsibility, as followers of Christ, to put aside our pride and reach down and help our suffering brothers and sisters carry their cross.

And by the same token, it is our responsibility to our brothers and sisters in Christ, to offer them the opportunity to help us carry our cross and rid themselves of the sin called pride...which if you think about it, the refusal to allow someone to help you carry your cross is also an act of pride.

If we think that we can live life alone with no help from others we are mistaken and filled with just as much pride as the rich man who walks buy the suffering Lazarus day after day.

I encourage you to use this beautiful time of Lent to look around you and see where Christ is offering an opportunity to rid yourself of such sins as pride...take a moment to look at your gate for Lazarus....he only wants the crumbs from your table after all.

+SM

I Am The Pro-Life Generation

Teenagers...what can I say about them other than I was one once.

My dear friend is a youth minister on Hilton Head Island which has given me the opportunity to volunteer with the youth at our parish. I will totally admit that I was VERY intimidated at the thought of interacting with middle/high schoolers as I was awkward at that age and am not totally sure I have grown out of it.

This past weekend I was privileged enough to help chaperone the youth group's annual trip to the March for Life in Washington DC. As an adopted child you can imagine that Pro-Life movement is one that is near and dear to my heart.

Although it was not my first time to the Washington DC March for Life , it was my first time chaperoning youth on an out of town trip...I was terrified. Hanging with youth and playing "ninja" is one thing but being responsible for their coming and going etc was enough to make me loose sleep in the days ahead.

As we wrapped up the March for Life trip we were asked to fill out a questionnaire with our thoughts on the trip...one of the questions was "When did you feel God was closest to us" or some variation of that.

My answer?

As we left the church at midnight Friday night to head to Washington DC we were lead in a Rosary by Team Dominican (2 Dominican Sisters that were also chaperoning the trip). By the time the Rosary was over I looked around and every single one of the youth were asleep. And THAT is when I felt God was closest to us. I felt as if we were in this peaceful bubble and that the world was just and right. I wanted to go around to every one of them and say a prayer over them and make the sign of the cross on their forehead...to remind them just how much God loves them and how precious they are to Him. I wanted them to know that when life goes "pear shaped" God will always be there to lead you were He wants you.

By no means do I feel "called" to be a Youth Minister BUT I do feel called to love. And loving these young people was enough to make my heart explode. As much as I hate to admit it, for fear of loosing my "street cred" these young men and women stole my heart and this beautiful pilgrimage to the Washington DC March for Life will forever be a grace filled time in my life.

I'm Back....

A little more than a year ago I returned home from my time discerning to become a religious sister. My transition to being back in the world, while on the surface, looked easy (I got a hair cut and my eyebrows waxed right after I got off the bus from Washington DC) inside my heart it has been a long and pain process of grieving.

The reasons I returned home are not important. But the way I felt inside is. I felt as if I had gone to marry Christ and He had decided He did not want to marry me. I felt rejected. And the worst part is I felt rejected by God. The ONE person whom had never let me down.

I have gone through all of the steps of grieving. Shock, guilt, anger...etc. My friends and family have been incredibly supportive. They have listened to me try to reconcile how Christ wouldn't want to marry me (I am kind of adorable after all). They have never stopped loving me...they were my Christ.

As I began to build my life back I learned to "fake it" for the sake of others. A handful of people knew how much I was struggling...that I was playing with fire when it came to my soul. I stopped going to Mass and Confession (which had been a daily and bi-weekly activity respectfully for the past year). I stopped PRAYING my Rosary which was the very thing that lead me to the Catholic church in the first place-funny enough though I never stopped carrying one in my pocket.

I found that I wasn't mad at the Church I was directly mad at God. He was the one person who could have changed the outcome of the whole experience. I yelled and screamed at Him while simultaneously begging Him to remove the pain I felt and hold me that way He had my entire life previous to this time. I wanted very much to throw my shoe at the tabernacle. Some people may have found my anger towards God shocking....but I saw at as confirmation that I really believe that He exists and has control over my life.

Through no work of my own but by the unconditional love and support of friends and family, my Christ(s) on Earth, I have found my way back into the arms of my loving Heavenly Father, His only begotten Son, and my most benevolent Mama Mary.

I look forward to Mass once again and end my day with my nightly Rosary. I am thankful for the never ending love that flows from the Mercy Seat of Christ and the Sacraments of the Catholic Church which heal my wounded soul. God is Love.

Under African Skies-Sudan 2009

Our Last Week in Sudan

This marks the our last week here in the Nuba Mountains of Sudan. We are still healthy and well! Thank you for you prayers as I believe that is what has helped to keep us this way.

The dry season is upon the land here and the effects of the hot sun with no rain have already begun to take their toll. The crops that have yet to be harvested have begun to turn brown and the people have begun burning the dry grass. The sisters who are here permanently fear a famine next year as the dry season has come early and the people have not been able to harvest enough food for next year.

We continue to plug along with our work here. This week I was able to observe a total hysterectomy which unfortunatly turned out to be cancer. I couldn't believe the size of the overies when they were pulled out...as big as oranges. I have to admit that as much as I try to be tough amongst all of the suffering here my deffences are getting worn down. There is a child here who is a victim of Cerebral Malaria and not only has upper body weakness but seems to "live in a different world" then we do. He often cries out with wailing noises and it pierces my heart. I try to imagine that the angles are with him and parallel his helplessness with that of baby Jesus as we come upon the Advent season. Seeing all of this suffering really puts your life in perspective and when I feel a little tired and hot from the weather I remember quickly this child and all of the others at the hospital and I just suck it up and deal with it.

I have had to drop the Melissa from my name while I am here as 2 names is a tough concept for the people here to grasp and the local brew is called Marisa and Melissa is often mistaken for that...and well that just isn't good for business, HA HA HA! I am counting down to having a cold one though and have little faith that it will be my favorite Mother Ship but at this point I would willingly take a cold Milwakee Beast..I mean Best!

Yesterday I went with Fr. Tom to the local playing field for some local wrestling. The Nuba people were VERY well known for their wrestling skills, however, due to the war it seems to have been lost but I hope that it is a tradition that will pick back up. The maternal instinct inside of me wanted to yell out, "someone is going to end up crying," but I held strong and just winced inside when someones body came crashing to the ground.

Next Thursday Morning, God willing, Sr. DeDe and I will board a Samaritan's Purse plane for Nairobi and will arrive in the evening. On Monday we will head to England where Sr. DeDe is going to meet with some young women who feel called to the religious life and I will spend a few days with Grandma and Grandpa!!! I have already requested my favorite Grandma meal of Bacon and Onion Pudding and I have to admit that I am not sure if I am looking more forward to having a beer or getting the sand out of the inconvenient places it has found itself!!

Thank you again for all of your prayers and support. Without you this wouldn't be possible!!

The Stars at Night are Big and Bright....Deep in the Heart of Sudan

Can you believe that we have been gone for almost a month now? Neither can I!!

Last week I witnessed my first normal baby delivery as opposed to the stork dropping of the baby. It was pretty intense. I was the person coaching the patient to push etc. Can you believe I was the first person to hold baby and I got to tie and cut the cord? AMAZING!

Melanie and I went with Fr. Tom to the market on Saturday. Just like home there is a "Starbucks" on every corner, HA HA HA. The coffee is locally grown and pretty awesome. There is normally wrestling in the market on the weekends but due to the rain it was cancelled...maybe next week. We tasted some of the local brew out of gourds....all I could think was please God don't let me die from the germs of the million people who have drunk out of this thing before me :)

On Sunday I went with Fr. Tom to a welcome home celebration for a young man who had been separated from his family due to the war and had been in a refugee camp in Kenya for the past 10 years. He was actually on the cargo flight with us from Locochoggio, Kenya and it was beautiful to see the initial reunion. As this was a "big" feast for the family a goat was slaughtered...again I tested the strength of my stomach in an attempt to not offend the family that had so graciously welcomed me into their home. So...I ate goat and sorghum tortillas and continually talked myself out of throwing up. I did manage to escape a concoction of okra that looked like snot when you spooned it out of the bowl...phew dogged that bullet!

We have had several sad cases come into the hospital over the past few days. I know I have said this before but I can't get over how life and death are so matter of fact here. No one points fingers of blame...it is just part of life. There is a baby here who is 4 days old and has Spina Bifida. There is fear that Baby already has menegitis as he has such a high pitched cry. Tomorrow Sr. DeDe will perform surgery to repair the opening and I hope to observe the surgery. Please pray for her and the baby!

I am greatly enjoying my time with the Camboni sisters. They have been more than gracious hosteses to me and are teaching me little nuggets of wisdom. My favorite so far is: In order to be a good missionary you must have the stomach of a pig to eat anything, the shoulders of a donkey to carry you belongings with you where ever you go, and the knees of a camel to spend a great amount of time in prayer.

I am helping the sisters with a project to obtain funding for the secondary school here in Gidel. The young people that attend St. Joseph Seconday School live at the school as the school is very far for some of them. While the young women are able to reside in a dormatory, the young men have to fend for themselves and some have built make shift homes near the campus of the school. I couldn't get over the fact that some of the students, due to lack of money, only eat the 1 meal a day provided by the school. I was floored!! Sr. Angelina was telling me that the cost in US dollars to send a young person to secondary school for 1 year including food, shelter, medical care, the whole nine yards....$200 A YEAR!! People in the US spend that on jeans!! It has been an eye opening experience to work on this project to say the least!

We all continue to be strong and healthy and work hard. Please continue to keep us in your prayers for the next three weeks!

We Are in Kenya

Just a quick update...we arrived in Nairobi Kenya last night without any problems minus 2 of our bags did not make it. But hopefully they will be on the next BA flight!! THankfully the trunk we had with our personal items (shampoo, toothpaste etc.) made it here :)

We are staying in the Bishop of Sudan's compound here in Nairobi and it is a little piece of the Garden of Eden. Everyone has been so gracious to us and we had a lovely lunch outside with a traditional African menu of potatos with Maze, greens, and other lovely stuff mashed together. It wacos pretty delicious.

We leave tomorrow for Locochoco tomorrow were we will spend the night and then hop a cargo plane into Sudan. I still can't believe I am here and can't wait to get into the hospital and start working.

Please keep us in your prayers

First Dance

You fought the fight in me

You chased me down and finished the race

I was blind but now I see

Jesus You kept the faith in me 

"EMPTY and BEAUTIFUL"- Matt Maher

Well, the day has been set...January 10th is the date I become a Postulant. 

I am not sad nor am I anxious. I am ready.

Matt Maher said it best in the lyrics above from the song "Empty and Beautiful," You chased me down and finished the race...end of story.  And I surrender. I am on my knees and I am no longer fighting. He has pursued me since I was a little girl and I accept His invitation to come closer to His throne and listen to that "still small voice" that whispers His unconditional love for me. 

You know how couples choose a song for their first dance? Hunger by Kathryn Scott is what I choose for my first dance with Christ on  January 10, 2009:

I'm falling on my knees

Offering all of me

Jesus you're all 

This heart is living for

God Will Provide/ St.Therese of Lisieux

Updated Timeline:

• 2.5 Months- move to Washington, DC
• 2 Months- move to SC to celebrate the holidays with my family
• 2 Days- 2 out 3 furry children go to their new mommy
• 3 Days-move in with a gracious friend who is "storing me" for 2 months
• 5 Days-load my possessions into a pod

Level of Stress: off the chart
Sleep Habits: Sleep? What's Sleep?
Grace from Heaven to "Keep on Keepin' On?:" there isn't an ocean big enough to contain it


I have been spending time every day with Jesus in the Tabernacle. I pray a lot, listen for that still small voice, and I read...currently Saint Therese of Lisieux: The Story of a Soul


And just when I think that God cannot shower anymore grace upon me I read the following: Yet God has made me so that when once I love, I love for ever. (please see My Love Language post for importance). I had to giggle. What peace I found in knowing that the Little Flower, a Doctor of the Church, is as passionate about those that she loves as I am. And in that moment I found such comfort to know that love transends all time and space and no matter where I am or where those whom I love are... our love will reach one another. Just like the love of Jesus on the Cross.


St. Therese of Lisieux pray for us and may we continue to learn and apply your "little ways" to our daily lives.

My Love Language

I read a book many years ago called The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapmen. The premise of the book is that each of us feels loved by experiencing love in one of the following 5 ways:

1. Words of Affirmation
2. Quality Time
3. Receiving Gifts
4. Acts of Service
5. Physical Touch

My "love language" is Quality Time...I feel closest to my friends and loved ones when we are together. We don't even have to talk. In fact I enjoy sitting next to those that are closest to my heart in mass, sharing in the beauty of our faith.

So, it occurred to me today as I was driving home from work that maybe, because my love language is quality time, that it might be the reason why I have become the insecure person that I have turned into these last 10 days.  That I have tried to fill every moment with being with my closest friends and have asked a million times for reassurance that they will stay in touch. The circumstances before me will force my love language of  Quality Time to morph into a new love language of which I am not sure of yet.

So I continued to ponder, meditate, which ever you choose to call it, that maybe this is what the 12 apostles went through as the circumstances with their beloved teacher changed.  That they had to shift their love language as the accessibility to our Lord changed. I am sure that it was a shock to have Jesus in the flesh and then to watch Him ascend into heaven after his death and resurrection, and then He was no longer available in the flesh but in the Spirit. 

I know that we have some friends are for a season, and the thought of that makes my heart hurt. But if the Apostles can adjust the way that the felt loved by their friend and savior Jesus, than surely I can do the same with my friends. I can't say that there won't be more tears or more need for reassurance. But I can say that once again I rely on the example of the saints to give me the courage to be molded by our Father into what He would have me be...even if it hurts.