flat tire

The sound of a tire on a steel rim went by me the other night. I wanted to yell at the driver to pull over, but they were soon too far ahead of me and then gone. Thoughts went through my head about the cost of damaged tires.

I have been feeling that way for awhile. Simply flat. The air was gone. I hadn't had any time away from work, and the stress was getting to me. The stress of nursing can be overwhelming at time.
Everyone wants something or needs something from me. A baby cries, a mother is exhausted, a doctor is angry, and a co worker needs a listening ear. It is costly to my soul.

Who takes care of me?

This past Lenten season for me was trying to stay away from exhaustion in people form.
They are in everyone's life. Those that just take, take, take and dump, dump, dump.
They push me off Humpty Dumpty's wall.

So putting myself together again is hard. Something I have learned is that I can't do it by myself.
I need divine intervention when I get like that.

I received it in a quick trip to NC where a pastor said a simple prayer over me, and I felt the tears come.
My soul was found from a tired and stress-filled lost place.

I heard a story this week about a baby that had so much air around its heart that it wasn't pumping. The nurses did CPR until the doctor could get the air out. When that happened, the little heart started pumping and the baby started to breathe.

I feel like that at times. I need CPR so I can start to breathe again. I need renewal. I pray and hope and wait for it to come. It comes sometimes by someone saying a prayer. Other times, when a friend speaks hope to me, or I get out in nature and feel the earth under my feet. It's never the same.
I can't recreate when I am not the Creator.

Serving has a cost to it. Renewal brings my soul back to a centered place.
Keeping myself in the balance of life is hard, but in order to serve well, it is a must.

I don't like that sound of screeching steel on the road.

the story within

Flying back from a quick weekend to NC, I boarded the plane to find myself sitting between two young men. One was 22 and returning to Seattle for his last 45 days in the Navy. He had been deployed twice serving in Operation Enduring Freedom and was winding down his 4 year service to his country. I was amazed at his dedication, his manners, his commitment to his country.  He spoke with pride about his work in the Navy. He spoke with love for his wife that had sacrificed living apart for those 4 years.

On the other side was a 13 year old young man with a Delta wristband which indicated he was flying on his own. He had asked to sit in my seat by the window and since I am not a fan of looking out at 10000 feet, I gladly let him have my seat. He said he felt better by the window. I wonder if he felt safer there. Traveling on his own relying on Delta staff, he remarked how he had never had the same staff escort in all his travels. How often does a 13 year old boy fly alone? This young man who was sitting by me traveled between parents about 11 times a year. He had been doing it for three years, and was looking forward to being 14 when he would be able to fly alone without the wristband. He spoke of his love for his little brothers and sisters on both ends of his world, and his love of sports.

I was privileged to be between these two young men. One was on the brink of moving on in his life, and the other lived in constant motion. Everyone has something to say..they have a story within them.
A simple seat arrangement brought us together, and in two hours of sharing I had a new understanding of two very different lives.

We all have a story within us and sharing it with a stranger seems to expand our world just a little.

Just something to think about.