Source

Over the last three years, I've struggled with the fear of flying. Really struggled. But before I get to that, I thought I'd recount a little of my flying history... the major events, at least:

The 1986 version of Whitney flew to Germany as a 6-month-old baby. She felt no fear. (Ok, ok... that doesn't count.)

2002 Whitney flew in a 5-seater Cessna through a thunderstorm from southern Texas into rural Mexico. This flight was epic. We thought it would last an hour or so, but it was double that time because of the horrible weather. I sat in the co-pilot seat, and my mom, sister, and a friend were crammed with our luggage in the back. It was a total relief once we landed, but more because we were nauseous from being thrown about in the skies than anything else.

2007 Whitney flew non-stop from Chicago to Tokyo, a very long 13 hours where we even passed over the Bering Strait. No problems on this flight at all, and it felt like quite the adventure.

2009 Whitney flew a very routine flight from Nashville to Chicago - one she had flown many times - that was very turbulent and brought about her first full-blown panic attack. You can read about that here. The pilot said we were experiencing "challenging skies," which did me in. From then on, my eyes were opened to the fear of flying. I'd never fear it before, even a little bit. I didn't even fear flying when I probably should've been afraid, like the Cessna trip into Mexico.

From April 2009 on, every flight was dreaded. Every flight was an event. On every flight, you could find me in a window seat near the front of the plane, wide eyes glued to the window at every tiny bump, tightening my seatbelt and gripping my armrests with clammy palms. It sounds pathetic, but it was reality. I usually kept my Bible open on my lap and prayed through a psalm when my heart began to race. And by the time we landed and I could finally breathe, I felt utterly drained.

I tried so many things to get over this fear.
I tried researching what turbulence really is.
I tried envisioning God carrying the plane along with his own strong hands.
I tried praying.
I still felt like a mess.

Until this week.

On Tuesday evening, I flew by myself to Chicago - and just flew back this morning. On our way to the airport, my Mom asked me to pray aloud about the flight. I prayed, just like I had for the past 3 years. But for whatever reason, God chose to make this time different. This time, I calmly boarded the plane, opened a book, and only glanced out the window a couple times.

On today's flight, the last 30 minutes were very bumpy, and you would have normally found me in a cold sweat as all I could see was the pure white cloud cover as we traversed through it. But today, those same bumps lulled me to sleep. TO SLEEP! I can't emphasize the contrast enough. To those of you who have never feared flying, this all may seem a little dramatic. But to those who have feared flying or have feared anything so deeply, you understand this experience for what it really is: a miracle.

Have you ever noticed how often in Scripture the phrase, "but God" exists? It's all over the place.

"The wicked go down to the realm of the dead... but God will never forget the needy." (Psalm 9:17-18)
"Day after day Saul searched for him, but God did not give David into his hands." (1 Samuel 23:14)
"My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." (Psalm 73:26)
"But, because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions." (Ephesians 2:4-5)

This God of mine is a God of contrast, of redemption. He is so "other," characterized by these verses that tell us that the situation was going poorly - Saul searching to kill David, our failing flesh, being dead in our own sin - and he comes along and radically changes the whole story.

But God.

How thankful I am to have entered a new season of travel, one that I'm not sure I ever believed would come. But God surely did. Oh, how He did.

DIY kitchen towels.

Last week, my friend Kate came over and we sewed and talked. And sewed and talked. Doing anything creative is our favorite thing to do together, but it's rare that we have the time cut out for it.

Kate brought bags of kitchen towels that she had found for $1.49 per pack, unopened from Goodwill and Ross. We both agreed that while the flour sack dish towels are prettier, they're definitely not as practical (I can't figure out how they dry anything). So barmop towels it was.

While this isn't much of a DIY how-to post, what we did was cut out long strips of 3" wide fabric, hem the bottom, fold over the top, pin it to the towel in a gathered ruffle, and sew. It was a little time consuming, but not hard at all. And the results are so whimsical and fun.



Kate cut out enough strips of fabric for about 10 more different towels, but we'll get to those next visit. For now, I'm excited to use my new (and really cheap) kitchen towels!

An early birthday celebration.

If Wednesday was one of my most difficult days in a long time, Thursday turned out to be one of my best. It began with a morning and afternoon with one of my best friends since Kindergarten, crafting and catching up for hours - a rare treat on a weekday during nursing school. She's a nurse, so she completely gets what I've been going through and loves me well through it. It was so refreshing.

In the evening, we headed to my parents' house to celebrate an early birthday (it's on Saturday). I had this gut feeling that a surprise was involved - I just read them too well, I think - but it totally threw me off when I arrived and it was just the four of us. We headed upstairs to see some new furniture, and when we came back down, two of my favorite people were staring in the windows near the front door. :)

A few more arrived and we shared the most delicious gluten-free dinner. Mom made a completely gluten-free meal of chicken alfredo, vegetable pasta, gluten-free garlic bread, and salad. It may have been the first completely gluten-free meal I've ever had outside of my own home, where I didn't have to avoid one thing. It was heavenly. We even had gluten-free cake from a bakery... a first for me!

Let me just say, I love the people in these photos. Every single one. The fact that they all made time to come celebrate me is such a privilege. Whitney even drove down from Bowling Green, Kentucky just for the evening which was such a sacrifice and made me feel so loved.

When we went to bed last night, I thanked Shawn for his part in putting this all together and whispered, "My heart is so full." It is, and it's such a good feeling to know you are loved by these amazing people. I am so, so blessed.

Groundhog Day.

Today on "Groundhog Day," we got to celebrate with our very own groundhog - the one that lives in the backyard. He's lived in that giant hole on the right since we moved in, but we haven't seen him for months. It's no coincidence he came out at such an appropriate time, right? :)

Let me just say... Puxsutawney Phil and Groundhog Day is one of the oddest traditions ever. Men in black wearing top hats lift up this poor groundhog in the air and thousands cheer. Then they read from a scroll, "Hear ye... hear ye..." and call this clueless groundhog "the prognosticator of all prognosticators" and then when he "proclaims" that "6 more weeks of winter there must be" they all boo. And he looks more confused than ever. What a weird, weird (and funny) tradition. You've got to watch the video here.

So did our groundhog see his shadow? I'm not really sure.
But he did look kind of confused, because if his Pennsylvania cousin really thinks there's going to be 6 more weeks of winter, that's really no problem for us. This winter has been the mildest I can remember - so hey, bring it on! Or maybe he looked confused because as he emerged from his burrow he didn't really get the pomp and circumstance he was expecting.

Toooo strange. :)

Dust.

Source

I'm at the end of what has been one of my roughest days as a nursing student. It was hard. So hard that I called Shawn at lunch to say, "I don't think I'm supposed to be a nurse." (I take it back now, don't worry.)

I'm working 12-hour shifts in a trauma unit this semester. It's a very high acuity unit and we get patients from all over the state who are basically experiencing the worst day of their entire lives. They were in car accidents (most of them), or had a terrible fall, or tried to kill themselves. No matter what the cause, it's a traumatic injury from which they may or may not recover.

And there I am in the middle of all of it, trying to deal with the devastation in a healthy way without just existing in a constant state of grief and despair.

This afternoon, I sat in a sterile conference room and watched the faces of a family as a doctor told them their daughter-in-law didn't make it and their son was seriously injured. I thought to myself, "This is not for me." My heart was in my throat and I felt on the verge of a panic attack because really... how do you not put yourself in their shoes? How do you not feel just an ounce of their pain?

There are nurses who can compartmentalize and "leave it at the hospital" and I'm just not there yet. I'm realizing that while my greatest strength is compassion, it also may be my greatest weakness. And it is the reason I will not be a trauma nurse (and you can quote me on that). :)

I've been meditating on Psalm 103 recently, my favorite psalm. The first part tells of how incredible our God is... all of his benefits. He forgives all our sins, heals all our diseases, redeems our life from the pit, and crowns us with love and compassion. It sounds too good to be true, doesn't it?

And then there's this little verse tucked into the middle of the psalm:
"For he knows how we are formed; he remembers that we are dust."

Is there anything more fragile, more weak, more inconsequential than dust? As I looked around at bed after bed of fragile life today, I was reminded of how weak and fleeting life on earth is. I remembered how fragile I am, having such a hard time dealing with the tragedies around me. But then I remembered that He knows how we are formed... because he formed us! He knows how he made me to have more compassion in my heart than I can handle... because he gave that to me! And when I compare myself (the dust) to the strong and mighty God that I know him to be, I am comforted.
I am calmed.
I am helped.