Jump to content

Topics About 'Hope'.

These are topics that staff believe are closely related. If you want to search all posts for a phrase or term please use the Search feature.

Found 7 results

  1. jeastridge

    3 Ways Nurses Dispense Rx: HOPE

    Gathering my thoughts and hospice computer, I climbed the outdoor steps to the second-floor apartment. The gloom in the small room was palpable as I entered. Crowded together on the couch sat a group of relatives and sitting close by in a worn recliner was the patient, a man in his late 60’s, jaundiced skin betraying his terminal diagnosis of advanced pancreatic cancer. On the arm of his chair, arm circled protectively around the top sat what appeared to be a daughter. After the introductions and greetings, we began to talk about what hospice is and does and how our services might be of help during this time. The patient waved his hand weakly to indicate his desire to speak, “This is it, isn’t it? I don’t have any more hope.” It seemed almost as if everyone took a collective breath, held it and turned to me, waiting for some word that would help them through this impossibly difficult moment. What would you say at this point? As professional nurses, we are present to help people wherever they are on their journey. From pediatrics to geriatrics and everywhere in between, we work to help people recover, rehabilitate, or compensate. Sometimes, we find ourselves in situations such as the one describe above which fits the traditional definition of “hopeless,” and yet, we are there to help inspire some degree of hope, however small. What is Hope? The stuff of life... As long as we have some hope, we can keep pushing forward. A thought process... Researcher Brene Brown says, “I was shocked to discover that hope is not an emotion; it's a way of thinking or a cognitive process. Emotions play a supporting role, but hope is really a thought process…” (http://www.bhevolution.org/public/cultivating_hope.page) A tool to face the day... Sometimes we hear ourselves or our colleagues referring to a reluctance to encourage “false hope,” or the possibility of inspiring unrealistic expectations in our patients. Given the definition above, maybe false hope is not such a concern since hope might be more about giving those in our care the tools they need to face the day, so they can manage to wring out a bit of joy even in the midst of terrible trials. Hope fills the balloon of life... We talk about hope all the time: I hope it doesn’t rain; I hope I don’t spill spaghetti on my white blouse; I hope he passes his test; I hope he gets better; I hope I will be forgiven. It is the same word, but holds vastly different meanings! Hope is hard to pin down—it fills the balloon of life and floats, held by a string of desire, tightly wound around our fist of determination and strong will. We won’t let go, for as long as there is hope, there is life. So what is our role as nurses in inspiring hope? Set goals. While it is impossible to foresee the future, with our knowledge base, we can help our patients set goals they have the ability to meet. We can help them set goals for today, e.g. “Let’s focus on getting bathed and dressed and sit in the bedside chair for 20 minutes. Does that sound good to you?” Meeting goals, even small ones, helps us to feel a sense of achievement and success which gives us hope for reaching other, more long-term goals. Focus. When life feels out of control, our patients may need help in focusing their goals and hopes on a more short term accomplishment. After a major stroke, or some other serious health set back, people have a hard time with looking too far ahead. We can help them reframe their thinking and thus give them true hope. By listening carefully and asking questions, we can help guide them to their own goals, zeroing in on what matters most. Reframe. When we get down to the nuts and bolts of life, time on earth is always rather limited. But when our patients and their families face a hospice nurse at the door, the limitations seem rather glaring and hope appears to take its bright light over into a corner where it is hard to reach. By helping our patients reframe their thinking to goals that are achievable in this new setting, we can help them have hope. For example, finding out what really matters to them in terms of pain management, family time, and closure can help leave them with a measure of hope. What to say? As I faced the family, I breathed in too, silently praying for inspiration and desperately asking for wisdom. “This is pretty hard, isn’t it? What is the hardest part for you?” I asked. He went on to talk about his fears of being a burden and of having pain that would be out of control. Once I understood his greatest concerns, I was able to help him and the family make plans for caring for him and was also able to describe some of our pain control plans. As we spoke, I could feel the gentle presence of hope re-enter the room. While the hope of eradicating his pancreatic cancer through treatment appeared to no longer be an option, there were other parts of his story that opened themselves up to hope and plans. Make each day as good as it can be... As I gathered my things two hours later, I touched the patient’s hand and spoke to him and his family, “None of us knows what tomorrow holds. But we will do our very best to care for you and to help make each day as good a day as it can be.”
  2. NutmeggeRN

    Choosing the 4th Option

    As a school nurse for 20 years, I have had more than my fair share of kids who have been diagnosed with cancer. I have had kids win the battle and lose the battle. Some had intensive therapy regimes, with every side affect possible and some blew through treatment with little side affect. Some have survived and some have not. I live in a little town that is seemingly overwhelmed with pediatric cancer diagnosis but when I try to clarify numbers with epidemiology, I find we are not higher than we should be statistically. Tell that to a parent and child whose whole world has been turned upside down. And now it is personal. My grandson to be (my sons soon to be stepson) has been treated for a brain tumor since he was 6 months old, he is now 5 �. Multiple surgeries, countless rounds of chemo, radiation, a shunt..... Recently there has been increased growth of the tumor. We met yesterday to discuss the results of his latest MRI. I was able to meet with the team from his Children's Hospital. What an amazing group of people. I have interacted with them over the years, as a school nurse, but this time it is personal. After his appointment 2 weeks ago, they were given several options to consider. Radiation, oral chemo at home or a six week clinical trial at St Jude''s. Or do nothing. An unimaginable choice. They sought out pastoral counseling, and spoke with parents who have been down this road with their child. They wrestled with putting their child through intensive disease based therapy, knowing the end result will not change. Or suspending treatment. Worrying they were giving up on their child. These are young parents. She has been a single mom her whole adult life, with an 11 year old who has clearly been impacted by his younger brothers illness. My son stepped into this situation early last year and has been a bedrock for her. They were friends in high school and now have a new relationship as adults. But he, MY (32 y/o) baby, hurts as well. He lost his dad at a young age and really struggled from the time he passed the age his dad died at, until about a year ago. They have not had it easy as young adults. They have become a strong force and a united family. And now it is going to change. She (and he) have chosen to enjoy this little man as long as they can. And they had the blessing and clear support of the team at the hospital. They were reassured they can change their mind at any time, and they will ALWAYS be a part of the Children's Hospital family. As a health care professional, I was moved by their empathy and understanding. As his grandmother, I am devastated, but strengthened, by their clarity and comprehension that this lil' guy has a limited time with us and it is up to us to give him the life a normal five year old. We will move forward from here, with periodic visits to assess growth of the tumor. They will now start to consider end of life care decisions.DNR, POLST, MOLST...there are too many acronyms to be had in medicine. These are by far the hardest decisions any parent should ever have to make. I applaud the team for being forthright and not sugarcoating that this is an issue to be dealt with. And I applaud my son and his fianc� for not backing away from the difficult conversation and inevitable decisions. We will be strong as a family but, There should never have to be a 4th option. EVER.
  3. obasnurse

    The Living Room

    I was just twelve when my parents called me and my two brothers into the living room. I knew something was going on because we had a family room where we watched television and played board games. The family room is where my dad put on the music and we all danced around, it was the fun room. The living room was reserved for guests, for when my parents considered someone special, they visited in the living room. I always knew not much living went on in that stuffy room. My dad sat forlorn, looking at the chocolate brown carpet that was so popular in the early 1980's. My mom did most of the talking. She usually did, she was good at explaining things to us. She knew the right words to use with her kids. My dad was good at other things, fishing, mowing the grass, playing the banjo and building campfires. My mom was good at talking. They made a good team. My dad hadn't been himself for a while. He was tired, moody, and spent alot of time sleeping. He had gotten pneumonia and a weird rash in his mouth before he would finally go to the doctor. He liked doctors well enough, but he was from the generation where real men didn't get sick, and sickness meant weakness. My mom was using words like blood cells, and lymphatic. She was trying, but she wasn't doing as good of a job as usual. She was stammering and crying as she tried to tell us that my father had leukemia. Those first few months we spent too much time in that stuffy living room, talking about my dad dying. As anyone with nursing knowledge knows, my father began chemotherapy treatments. I began 7th grade as my dad began dying. It was a scary, stressful time for everyone. He was merely 38, my mom just 33. He had a large family and out of five siblings, three matched on five of the six proteins needed for a bone marrow transplant. All of that news was delivered in the "living room" too. I had never seen my hard motorcycle riding uncles cry before. If they were crying were things worse than I knew? I suddenly felt the stuffiness of that living room spreading through our whole house. The only time when things felt good was when my dad sat under my bedroom window and played his banjo. "Therapy", "coping" I had heard the nurse say. The nurse. She was warm, she didn't feel at all like the living room. She smiled, and she laughed. Her eyes never looked at the floor, she always used them to talk to my dad, and us. She has so much time, and her voice never trembled when she said the words radiation, chemo and white blood cells. We lived in a rural town where the number of cows might have matched the number people. We were a tight knit community. That also meant the hospital was small. It also meant the hospital was tight knit. I always wanted to go to my dad's appointments when ever I could. It wasn't often, as he was private about the cancer, to himself he had become weak. The nurses at our hospital were amazing to me. I looked at them like a kid looks at fireflies on a June night. In awe, in amazement, all with a jar in hand. I wanted the nurses to talk to me. They always said things like " How are you?" and their tone always invited me to tell the truth. Their arms were strong as their one hand rested on my one shoulder and their stethoscope bopped off my other. They always hugged my mom, and some of them cried with her. I always noticed their tears were different, not cried out of fear, but out of need,the need to take away some hurt, physical and emotional. Their tears seemed braver than mine. My family spent twelve years in and out of that hospital. We went to larger ones too of course. We went to several larger ones, and not all the nurses had the same faces, or names, but they all felt the same. They all mesmerized me. I watched everything they did. I watched how they treated my dad. He smiled when they spoke, he visibly felt better. They made him feel alive. They didn't treat him like he was dying. They treated him like he was living, like he was living in the family room. My father passed away in that same small hospital twelve years after his diagnosis with Chronic Lymphatic Leukemia. He had endured chemo, radiation, experimental drug treatments, blood transfusions and numerous other interventions. He had lost hair, teeth, and 75 lbs. He lost his sense of smell and taste only after everything he smelled or tasted made him sick for a year. He lost his nose to an infection. He lost his ability to work, to walk long distances. He lost his pride when he had to sleep on those horrible chux. He lost so much to the cancer. He had also gained the marriage of two children, the birth of six grandchildren, the anniversaries of twelve years, eleven Christmas trees, 98 birthdays parties of kids and grand-kids, and hundreds of nights playing the banjo on the back porch under the window his grand-kids were now sleeping in on warm Saturday nights. We in turn experienced in our nurses' lives, four new babies, three new homes, two weddings, five new grand-babies, some new cars, canning recipes, and garden tips. You know the things families share. It took years for the house to lose the feeling of the living room. It started on a Sunday evening, just a month after my dad was buried. Four of the nurses from the hospital stopped by to check on my mom. She was living alone now, we were all grown and living our lives. I happened to be there when they came. Of course my mom invited them into the living room to visit. They were special, important, guests. I sat listening to the conversation. I brought coffee and tea, some homemade banana bread a neighbor dropped off seemed perfect to serve too. As I sat there looking at these special guests I realized this was the perfect room to bring them to. It no longer felt so stuffy, so oppressive. The furniture began to look inviting, and the chocolate brown carpet looked unusually soft. This was a good place to bring such special guests. They represented everything the last twelve years had been. Their care, their expertise, their dedication enabled my family to live, and the room began to feel like a place I could sit to read, or play with my babies. It also felt like the perfect place to start studying for my own nursing degree.
  4. jaelpn

    Facing the World Ahead...

    I remember waking up early, sitting outside in that crisp cool air and just wondering what kept me motivated. I often sat outside to catch a breather, and then go back in and finish my studies. I knew I wanted to be someone that helped others since I was a kid; my friends always thought of me like their own mother hen; although I have yet to have any children, I am often the one to make sure that my friends are doing alright, that they aren't in any danger in their lives. I sometimes would put my life on hold for others. I remember a few years after I graduated high school, I was still working at a nursing home in the dietary department. I needed a change; I was nervous about venturing out; while all my friends went to a university or some college far away, I was stuck. My parents had five children; I was their third child. My two older siblings slipped from home and joined the military. I was being pushed into joining the military but I never had good running stamina. I was weak and tired all the time. I knew it was a lot to ask of my parents, but I had asked them to help me get into a cna program. Even though it was only $600 for the course, I never liked to ask my parents for help. They decided to go in half with me. So I went to this small community college and began my 16 week course. I graduated, and worked as a cna for 3 years; in that time I paid my parents back for the help of getting me started. I had also in that time decided to get my EMT, thinking that my path to success would be to become a paramedic. I did graduate and get nationally certified but I decided after hearing that a dear friend of mine got killed in a car accident, ejected and dying on impact after he suffered head injuries from hitting the highway, I wasn't sure if my heart could really survive in that field. I decided it was now or never- military or nursing school. I was living paycheck to paycheck at this time, living with my parents and working for barely over minimum wage for a cna. I had to work- there was no getting out of that. I was still always weak and tired, but knew I had to push my way through. I signed up for an LPN course and decided that I had to do this for me. I ended up working 32 hrs a week on top of full time school. I put my all into the course; I'd stay up late studying. I'd wake up early and study more, go to class, go to work and come home and do it all over again. Mid-way through nursing school I made an appointment with my doctor. I told him that despite how I was working and going to nursing school, I couldn't shake this tiredness and fatigue. I ended up being diagnosed with hypothyroidism. He began me on synthroid and tested my levels. I began to feel much better with more energy. I finally felt like I could keep up with everyone else. I remember the day that made me feel like I was ready to venture out to the world; the day I received my nursing cap. I had walked up the aisle, faced my instructor and she placed my nursing cap on, held it tight with bobby pins and I stood to face the rest of my classmates and I just felt this immediate happiness. Oh, there were times during nursing school that I had it, I was done, I couldn't go on. But stepping out into the world with this white cap- I felt like I could persevere. This was finally my time to succeed. I had a strong friendship with a lady I met in nursing school. She was 47 and decided after working at Walmart for years, she wanted to fulfill her life long dream of becoming a nurse. We studied together and had laughed and cried through the months. After a year or so of our lpn graduation, I heard she had died from liver cancer. She never told me she had cancer, and yet she always pushed forward. I often think she is guiding me to continue on with passion for nursing. She died peacefully. Sometimes I think that God sends people into our lives for a reason; maybe she was the reason that kept me going in nursing school. The world is a land of opportunity for each and every nurse; whether you are just now starting on your journey, or have been in this field for a while. We never know who is going to come into our lives and change us. There is never a day that goes by that I am not thankful that my parents had gave me hope by giving me that $300 to start cna class; through that, I finally made my way through lpn school to where now I have a hope that I can face the world ahead. I feel that my life has finally started- I feel wide awake.
  5. Let me first say thank you for not ignoring this article and for letting this little art piece of mine reach your mind. Today, I spent 3o minutes of my time trying to join the contest "Write a Nursing Article and Win a Cash". I have put so much effort clicking the join the contest button but regardless of the efforts I made, I failed. Nevertheless, the contest didn't stop me from letting this article be read by so many nurses around the world. I feel that I have the responsibility to let them know the story of my nursing career. My name is Marie, I graduated BS in nursing in one of the most reputable school in the Philippines. I came from a middle class family and we are a family of lawyers. My father, two sisters, uncles, and cousins, all of them are lawyers. Yes, I grew up from a home where everything is all about law and order. And even if I grow up from a family with lots of discussions and debates to talk about, I grew up valuing peace and quiet above everything else. So probably you're wondering why I chose nursing? The answer isn't too hard.. I had no choice.. My dad persuaded me to become a nurse and work abroad. He even tricked me of the idea that I can go to law after finishing nursing. I hate nursing... I really do... After I graduated from nursing and passed my board exam, I got pretty lucky if you can call it that way and was offered a job to one of the most prestigious hospitable in our country. I was one of the firsts to get a real job in our batch. Friends would often call me lucky, I wasn't sure about that. And to make things worst, I was assigned to one of the most irritating ward in the hospital, the oncology ward. In an oncology ward, I get to see a lot of dying and in pain patients. To think that the only satisfying feeling that I can get from nursing is when my patients are happily discharge and well. With cancer patients, most of them they go back for another chemotherapeutic treatment and when they go back they are weaker, helpless, hopeless and unhappy.The worst feeling is when you assist a patient in signing a document that tells if everything comes to worst: DNR, do not resuscitate me.. Just let me go... or something like that. At the end of the shift, you're physically, emotionally and spiritually tired.The next duty is another story to tell. After years of battling emotions, I resigned from my job. I took the NCLEX exam and IELTS and had it visa screen. While waiting for my petition, I decided to take relevant health courses online in preparation for my job abroad. I was managing a family business at the same time. After a year of waiting I got denied. Yes I got denied. 4 days ago I got denied. I spent 1 day of my life crying, I wanted to stop crying as it is already crushing my heart literally and figuratively. I even heard my pop saying: all wasted time and efforts.. Nursing is a complete failure. No comforting words could ever comfort me. I was torned at the fact that I might start all over again.. Where do I go from here? Looking for a nursing job here in my country is as good as nothing. Nothing.. I'am mad because my parents let me rule my life.. and my life now.. all empty.. I'am not alone and there are so many passionate nurses out their whose only wish was to be given a chance to practice their profession, something that I had been given for. For so many years I have been refusing the idea that nursing has given me a sense of fullfillment. The emotions that has gotten on me the past few days has been a wake up call for me, probably I'am upset because I love my nursing career and there is nothing that I want to do but nurse a patient. Sometimes blessings comes in a very surprising way. The emotional torment I have felt the past few days have given me enough time to assess what really is important to me. I realized I haven't been observing myself all this time. I feel my patients more than anything else in the world. I feel their pain and anguish.. and yet I've tried avoiding that kind of feeling because I feel sadness for them. I have lost all hopes that I could think of yet i know.. and you know.. there is really no such thing as giving up hope... This rough course I'm now going through made me realized that I've got two passions. I will never give up my career as a nurse.. and I will never give up the hope of becoming a lawyer someday.. I'm heartbroken and yet I know something new was born inside of me.. I gained a lot of lessons, wisdom and strenght from all of this things... Probably not the best happy ending you've read, that wasn't my goal anyway.. Just a little ray of hope... Cheers to all passionate nurses! "The Flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and Beautiful of all" - Mulan If you're hurt, find a nurse! I'm sure she knows what to do!
  6. WildcatFanRN

    Hope is NOT for the faint of heart

    Like many on this board I went to RN school hoping to improve my life both personally and financially. Like many I have prior student loans that have gone into and out of default and I was hoping finally getting my RN would help me to finally meet all of my financial obligations. Personally I was hoping to finally have a stable career without the threat of being phased out at the hospital I had worked so hard to finally be able to work at. I wanted to finally be able to get into Pediatric Nursing, something I found impossible to get into as an LPN. I had hoped that once finished with my RN my then fiance and I would finally have a decent place to live together once I started working. Our dream was to get a house. This was in 2008 and then I graduated and reality hit. My hope and dream to work with infants was answered, I thought, when I applied for and was hired to a NICU as a RN Applicant. I had never worked critical care, let alone critically ill infants as an LPN so this was a very new, very scary, and very exhilarating experience....or so I thought at the time. Four weeks into orientation I was told that I was not a good fit for the unit and that I wasn't learning fast enough. I was terminated "failed orientation" instead of being allowed to transfer to another unit/facility within the system. "OK", I thought, "a small setback, but I can still do what I had always dreamed and hoped to do". I was wrong, very wrong. I took my NCLEX exam 2 days later and passed with 75 questions. I had my license, but no job. I applied to every position I could think of with that hospital system as I was "eligible for rehire". I even got one interview for mother/baby, but didn't get the job. After that nothing, nada, zilch, no more interviews with that system. By the first of the year I had given up on my dream of working with infants/peds and just wanted a job so I applied to adult units out of state. I hoped that perhaps once I got that magical first year's experience I would finally be able to realize my dream and transition to pediatrics. After literally hundreds of applications and only 6 interviews I accepted a job out of state. My now husband and I started our new life together driving to a new state and a new town where we had no one but each other for support and the promise of financial stability. I had hoped that finally I would get to work as an RN and learn what it means to BE one. I was wrong.....again. I had a good preceptor I thought, she taught me good skills that I had never done before. But, I wasn't treated as a new RN. I was treated as a nurse who hadn't worked with high acuity patients before. Neither of us realized this though at the time, I only figured this out after talking to the nurse retention officer. I had been an LPN for 13 years and the transition to being an RN turned out to be a difficult one for me and no one picked up on it. Turns out I fell back to the mindset of an LPN while working as an RN. I focused on the tasks I had to do and apparently was missing "the big picture". I talked to my manager and we both decided that perhaps I needed a less acute unit to go to. Unfortunately there weren't any that had new graduate RN positions anymore. My manager told me that it took a very mature person to admit that they had bit off more than they could chew and to try to make a change instead of thinking nothing was wrong. I wish I could have stayed there, but I was terminated from the system after 3 months of not working as you can't work on the unit you're transferring from during the transfer process. Now it's 2011 and my husband and I are the parents of a beautiful little girl and I'm still unemployed. We moved back home in 2009 after I was terminated from the system and it became evident that despite the hard work of the nurse retention manager I just wasn't going to get a new position. All my hopes and dreams haven't been destroyed by all this; I guess you could say they are put on hold. I still send off several applications a week and get almost immediate rejection emails, but I persist anyway. I hope that somehow, somewhere someone would at least give me an interview even though technically I don't have RN experience. I have decided to return to school to complete my BSN since a lot of the hospitals in my area suddenly seem to want more BSN nurses than ASN. It is my hope that doing this will increase my marketability in a very competitive geographic job market. Hope is definitely not for the faint of heart. It's easy to give up on your hopes and dreams if you dwell too much on the negative and believe me there is a lot of negative in today's job market. But if you nurture that little kernel of hope, give it just a little light, it can grow and keep you motivated. I see my hope everyday in my daughters smile and my husband's support. I know that despite how bad things might seem, it's not that bad. We have a roof over our head, food on the table, and the bills we can pay are being paid. It is my HOPE that those reading this will realize that no matter how hard things might seem now, things are not as bad as they might seem. I've recently read on this very site where those who were just about to give up hope found what we were looking for, or if not exactly what they were looking for, something acceptable to them. I know it can happen for me....I HOPE J
  7. jaelpn

    Is Faith Enough?

    I use to think that faith was enough- that if I had enough faith, I could accomplish anything. Faith is something that I think can lead us into the belief of being able to have a stronghold on life. When the tough gets going, we start to see that cloud of darkness roll in. I have always been known to be a Christian, but the closer I get to thinking I know who I am, or what I am and believe in- things change. One minute I am feeling this complete satisfaction of life as if some light of clarity has suddenly turned on inside of me. The next moment I am wondering how I am able to even survive another day on this earth. There are nights that I have trouble sleeping; I'm just staring up at the ceiling with my mind going a mile a minute. I'm sure there are many other people who do this as well. I just start thinking about things in life. One thought always crosses my mind: I am going to die. We all know it's coming, there is no escaping the reality of what human life becomes. We exist, we live and we die. It's something no one really wants to talk about, yet we are all swimming in the same ocean of life. I try to wrap my mind around the concept of death but it's hard. I see death often since I work in the medical field. It's not that shocking to be doing the final preparing of a body before the funeral home straps the body to the gurney to be prepared for the last viewing before the body is buried six feet under. Sounds kind of morbid, doesn't it? What happens to our souls after we die? There are so many different religions, so many different beliefs. How do we know that our religion, our belief- is the "right" one? I grew up going to a Methodist church- so from a young age, I was told I was a Christian because I believed in God and sang all the church hymnals, was baptized and did all the things that a young christian person should do. The older I got, the more I thought about how my faith never really started until I lost my faith. I had gone through the phase of depression and lost what faith I had in life. It was much easier to just stay in that dark depression and not feel anything toward life (like a numbness)- but the deeper I got, the harder it was for me to feel anything toward life. I don't really remember how my faith came back, but I knew that I needed to find some kind of happiness in life. I'm sure most people know about God and the story of Jesus, Noah's arc, etc. As a kid, I remember reading from the children's bible- seeing all these colorful pictures of the arc, the cross where Jesus had died for our sins, the heavenly angels playing the harps on this big white puffy clouds. The more I think of it as an adult, the more it seems all that stuff was written like a fairy tale. We don't want to think of what is -next- after our death so we want to fill it up with something that seems too good to be true. I don't believe there are coincidences in life. I believe there is a purpose for everything that happens. We may not know it until after our hindsight of the experience, but I think there is a reason for all the good and bad things of the world. After my father's death at the age of 59, I tried to close my eyes and pray. It was hard...I was angry that my dad had died so young, and maybe I just wasn't in the right state of mind to pray when I was angry. I eventually overcame the anger and was in that accepting stage. A few different times I had dreams of my father- almost like I could touch him. It brought a lot of emotions- knowing that he is only as far away as I let him be. We are stuck in these bodies for a long while- these awful, hard to maintain at times- bodies. My dad had a lot of stuff wrong with his heart and lungs- it just caused him an early death. But death isn't as negative as it sounds- it's kind of like putting a beloved pet down because you don't want to see them suffer anymore. God knows the person is suffering, the person's body isn't responding the way it should so he puts the body to rest and their soul lives on in the dimension of the universe for which we can't see with our humanly eyes. There is not a doubt in my mind that there is something "more" ...there are too many miracles, too many things to think we were all created from some "big bang" ...the simplicities of a blooming flower, the sounds of birds chirping, the way the stars shine brightly in a clear midnight sky. That is where my faith comes in. There is just too many beautiful things in the world to think that we humans could make it all up. The miracle of birth- how we all are so different and yet we all have two eyes, ten toes, ten fingers, etc. How awesome is it to see a child born to this world- and life to begin once again. I may not be the picture perfect Christian. I know I'm not even a good enough human to deserve this life; to be able to see what life brings forward. I know that I am, however, full of faith. Faith has taught me that no matter how hard life gets, no matter the good from the worse things that happen in life, faith will carry me through. I've heard the saying that someone has faith the size of a mustard seed; althought that's a very small amount of faith- it's something that can carry you through. We all need faith- I hope that wherever the wind may blow, no matter how difficult life comes- faith can reach us all. I have faith there has to be a better tomorrow; why? Because without it, there's no use in living. I'd say faith is enough- enough to give us Hope.
×

This site uses cookies. By using this site, you consent to the placement of these cookies. Read our Privacy, Cookies, and Terms of Service Policies to learn more.