He met her up in Delaware in 1937
She was wearing red lipstick to match her pretty dress
December 24th at a quarter till eleven is when he finally gained the courage to ask her to dance
It was the night before Christmas, it was love at first sight
The carolers sang as they danced through the night
She was a small town girl, he was a traveling guy
He never caught her name before they said their goodbyes
A couple years later he was out on the road
Having Christmas dinner in a diner alone
When he saw a young waitress with a gleam in her eye
Her favorite day of the year she showed her spirits were high
She said sir can you shed a little holiday cheer
A simple Christmas story was all she wanted to hear
He looked prepared with a smile as he started to say
Here's my favorite Christmas story about a girl with no name
He said I met her up in Delaware in 1937
She was wearing red lipstick to match her pretty dress
December 24th at a quarter till eleven is when I finally gained the courage to ask her to dance
Every holiday season as he traveled he'd tell about his Christmas dance partner that he never knew well
He'd share his favorite story with the locals he met
He was called the Christmas story telling traveling man
By age 53 he had done settled down
All the neighborhood kids liked to gather around
Just to listen to his stories about his life on the road
All he had now were these children he told
And every Christmas eve they showed up before dark
He'd tell them all the story but they knew it by heart
They could quote it word for word, he always told it the same
It was his favorite Christmas story called the girl with no name
He said I met her up in Delaware in 1937
She was wearing red lipstick to match her pretty dress
December 24th at a quarter till eleven is when I finally gained the courage to ask her to dance
Twenty years later as he took his last breath
It was on a cold Christmas morning on a hospital bed
The children were grown, he had nobody left
Except the little old nurse who was holding his hand
He said Ma'am can you share a little holiday cheer
A simple Christmas story was all he wanted to hear
But his eyes filled with tears at the words that she spoke
Because his favorite Christmas story was the one that she told
She said I met him up in Delaware in 1937
Though I never caught his name he was a traveling man
December 24th at a quarter till eleven
I'm so glad he got the courage to ask me to dance
Shine On, The Kooks
Safety pins holding up the things
That make you mine
About your hair, you needn't care,
You look beautiful all the time.
Shine, shine, shine on
Yes
Wont you shine, shine on
Your magazines, at people at the seams
But you still read I must admit, I don't believe in it
But I see how you get sucked in
Shine, shine, shine on
Yes
Wont you shine, shine on (Sha la la la)
Shine, shine, shine on
Yes
Wont you shine, shine on
Because your not done
Why do you buy the hand that feeds you
Why do you
Why do you buy the hand that feeds...you!
Shine, shine, shine on
Yes
Wont you shine, shine on (Sha la la la)
Shine, shine, shine on
Yes
Wont you shine, shine on
Safety pins holding up the things
That make you mine
About your hair, you needn't care
You look beautiful all the time
That make you mine
About your hair, you needn't care,
You look beautiful all the time.
Shine, shine, shine on
Yes
Wont you shine, shine on
Your magazines, at people at the seams
But you still read I must admit, I don't believe in it
But I see how you get sucked in
Shine, shine, shine on
Yes
Wont you shine, shine on (Sha la la la)
Shine, shine, shine on
Yes
Wont you shine, shine on
Because your not done
Why do you buy the hand that feeds you
Why do you
Why do you buy the hand that feeds...you!
Shine, shine, shine on
Yes
Wont you shine, shine on (Sha la la la)
Shine, shine, shine on
Yes
Wont you shine, shine on
Safety pins holding up the things
That make you mine
About your hair, you needn't care
You look beautiful all the time
Sieze the Day
Sometimes it's really hard to force yourself to study. Like, when you know it's your life in your hands and you will regret skipping later, you still decide to watch tv or play Rock Band (that may just be me) instead of reading or writing a paper. Then, once it's too late and you have your other pre-set appointments to fulfill, you get mad at yourself for screwing around and procrastinating.
I hate that because it ruins the rest of my day. It's my fault, I know, but I still hate the feeling. I know I'll feel like crap after the fact, but I still slack off! Poop...
Maybe that's how sin works? We tell ourselves everyday that we are giving ourselves over to God to be used completely, no matter what happens. We have this idea of a perfect day when we follow Christ, but that's never been our promise. Actually, we can usually expect a day filled with attacks from Satan and his army when we are faithfully pursuing Christ. And so, when a hard time comes along; a coworker upsets us; we hurt our ankle and let out a little curse; we hit a squirrel with our car; or we get stuck in a rainstorm in standstill traffic on our way home, we get mad at ourselves and forget about our well-intentioned, utopian idea of holding onto God.
Now, I know we aren't perfect. Far from it. But we are called to pursue that perfection, and when we fall short we should try that much harder. Guilt is not something God gives us to say "you're fault, not mine! You should've tried harder." No! He embraces us for who we are: dirty, ugly, imperfect, sometimes stupid humans that are so blessed with the grace of God that it's unfathomable. Beautiful and harsh at the same time.
So, whether it be in our walks or our books, let's pursue perfection. Stop putting so much blame on yourself and instead view it as a learning experience when we mess up. No more spiritual procrastination. CARPE DIEM!
I hate that because it ruins the rest of my day. It's my fault, I know, but I still hate the feeling. I know I'll feel like crap after the fact, but I still slack off! Poop...
Maybe that's how sin works? We tell ourselves everyday that we are giving ourselves over to God to be used completely, no matter what happens. We have this idea of a perfect day when we follow Christ, but that's never been our promise. Actually, we can usually expect a day filled with attacks from Satan and his army when we are faithfully pursuing Christ. And so, when a hard time comes along; a coworker upsets us; we hurt our ankle and let out a little curse; we hit a squirrel with our car; or we get stuck in a rainstorm in standstill traffic on our way home, we get mad at ourselves and forget about our well-intentioned, utopian idea of holding onto God.
Now, I know we aren't perfect. Far from it. But we are called to pursue that perfection, and when we fall short we should try that much harder. Guilt is not something God gives us to say "you're fault, not mine! You should've tried harder." No! He embraces us for who we are: dirty, ugly, imperfect, sometimes stupid humans that are so blessed with the grace of God that it's unfathomable. Beautiful and harsh at the same time.
So, whether it be in our walks or our books, let's pursue perfection. Stop putting so much blame on yourself and instead view it as a learning experience when we mess up. No more spiritual procrastination. CARPE DIEM!
Home Away From Home
The icy cold breeze runs past my legs as I walk into the warm, inviting island of peace that is Starbucks. In search of that ether of life, the warming, bitter drink that can warm a man to the bones, I walk to the counter and a woman with an friendly smile. No one else is around as I look up at the menu. Wondering which drink would tickle my fancy, I pick cautiously because the wrong drink, as everyone knows, has the potential to ruin even the most lively of days.
I tell the friendly woman what I would like, parting sadly with my money, but looking forward to gaining so much more in return. What a great investment! I think to myself as she hands me the steaming cup of life, which I hurry over to my table to enjoy. I sit and wait for it to cool, for there is nothing worse than drinking a cup of steaming liquid, only to burn oneself and lose the taste from the rest of the cup.
Finally, I judge that the cup is ready. Holding it with two hands, almost as if the mug were my child, I brink the ether to my lips and sip. Ah! I think. As it hits my lips, I sigh in contentment. I let it linger on my tongue and swallow, warmth emanating first through my throat and then to rest of my body. Amazing! I say again to myself. How can something so small and seemingly unimportant bring with it such power and warmth?
As I continue to sip and enjoy my mug of happiness, people are coming in and out of the store. I look up occasionally, wondering if they feel the same as I do each time they drink from their cup. It doesn't matter though. I am happy, sitting at my table alone, save for the music, aroma, and taste of such a beautiful and comforting place. Lost in my cup and thoughts, I smile and lean back in my chair, looking around at my home away from home...
I tell the friendly woman what I would like, parting sadly with my money, but looking forward to gaining so much more in return. What a great investment! I think to myself as she hands me the steaming cup of life, which I hurry over to my table to enjoy. I sit and wait for it to cool, for there is nothing worse than drinking a cup of steaming liquid, only to burn oneself and lose the taste from the rest of the cup.
Finally, I judge that the cup is ready. Holding it with two hands, almost as if the mug were my child, I brink the ether to my lips and sip. Ah! I think. As it hits my lips, I sigh in contentment. I let it linger on my tongue and swallow, warmth emanating first through my throat and then to rest of my body. Amazing! I say again to myself. How can something so small and seemingly unimportant bring with it such power and warmth?
As I continue to sip and enjoy my mug of happiness, people are coming in and out of the store. I look up occasionally, wondering if they feel the same as I do each time they drink from their cup. It doesn't matter though. I am happy, sitting at my table alone, save for the music, aroma, and taste of such a beautiful and comforting place. Lost in my cup and thoughts, I smile and lean back in my chair, looking around at my home away from home...
God, Our Personal Trainer
I did something today I had been meaning to do for a while...I went to the gym. For the past week I had been so busy with school, work, and school (yes, I meant to mention it twice), that I had no time to myself to do the things I so love doing. Working out happens to be one of those things. I love feeling my muscles tighten up as I think about the future of my washboard abs (oh wait, that was my dream). I love running on the machines and feeling all my problems and Twinkies sweat away. But most of all, I love the feeling of getting to the gym, because getting there is the hardest part. Walking into the building is a chore all its own.
Your brain is telling you to run, and I don't mean on a treadmill. It says "turn around now or else you'll regret it." And yes, sometimes you do. Your body feels fatigued and broken after a workout, but that's a good thing. It allows your body to build itself back up. I'm not sure if you know this, but when you do a physical activity, your muscles are using and "eating up" all the extra food and energy reserves you have. If you work out hard enough you begin to burn off so much that it outweighs how much you put into your body, and therein lies the beauty of weight loss.
Well, as your muscles literally break themselves down, there is more room to build them back up to a level greater than before. You take in protein, which adds strength to previously weak areas of your body. As time progresses, you usually see an outward difference in appearance and performance.
I gave you this long health lesson to portray an idea. Sometimes, in life, we go through rough spots. A lot of times these rough spots look like they are impossible to bypass or even trudge through. We see the impossibility of our circumstances, and like so many infants do, we plop onto our bums and start crying. We complain that this or that isn't fair, or this or that is too hard. We decide to stay put instead of going to the gym. The less we face our problems, just like the less we go to the gym, the less fit we get emotionally and spiritually.
God, being the loving Father he is, puts us through times in order to strengthen us, to build our spiritual muscles. Our circumstances break us down to the point that we have to go to him and say, "well, um, I kind of can't do this alone...can you help?" And again, as the loving Father, God comes in and shows us (trains us) in the ways to spiritual strength. As that happens people will see an outward change in us, not like bigger biceps and tighter glutes (although I welcome both). We will produce good fruit, a healthy relationship with Christ, and a love for others that overwhelms those who aren't saved.
It takes time, there is no doubt. And there are days when we just want to stay where we are and indulge in the delicious and fun ways of this world. But as God strengthens us spiritually, it gets a little easier. We will never be perfect (we all miss our days at the gym), but with God as our trainer, we can become great spiritual athletes and run the race well...all the way to the finish.
Your brain is telling you to run, and I don't mean on a treadmill. It says "turn around now or else you'll regret it." And yes, sometimes you do. Your body feels fatigued and broken after a workout, but that's a good thing. It allows your body to build itself back up. I'm not sure if you know this, but when you do a physical activity, your muscles are using and "eating up" all the extra food and energy reserves you have. If you work out hard enough you begin to burn off so much that it outweighs how much you put into your body, and therein lies the beauty of weight loss.
Well, as your muscles literally break themselves down, there is more room to build them back up to a level greater than before. You take in protein, which adds strength to previously weak areas of your body. As time progresses, you usually see an outward difference in appearance and performance.
I gave you this long health lesson to portray an idea. Sometimes, in life, we go through rough spots. A lot of times these rough spots look like they are impossible to bypass or even trudge through. We see the impossibility of our circumstances, and like so many infants do, we plop onto our bums and start crying. We complain that this or that isn't fair, or this or that is too hard. We decide to stay put instead of going to the gym. The less we face our problems, just like the less we go to the gym, the less fit we get emotionally and spiritually.
God, being the loving Father he is, puts us through times in order to strengthen us, to build our spiritual muscles. Our circumstances break us down to the point that we have to go to him and say, "well, um, I kind of can't do this alone...can you help?" And again, as the loving Father, God comes in and shows us (trains us) in the ways to spiritual strength. As that happens people will see an outward change in us, not like bigger biceps and tighter glutes (although I welcome both). We will produce good fruit, a healthy relationship with Christ, and a love for others that overwhelms those who aren't saved.
It takes time, there is no doubt. And there are days when we just want to stay where we are and indulge in the delicious and fun ways of this world. But as God strengthens us spiritually, it gets a little easier. We will never be perfect (we all miss our days at the gym), but with God as our trainer, we can become great spiritual athletes and run the race well...all the way to the finish.
The Chronicles of a Student Nurse, 1.2
Today was our first big test in theory class, and man was it a doozy (sp?). I hadn't really studied much for it, which worried me a lot. I had done a few practice problems that were similar to the critical thinking ones that would be on the test, but other than that I think I had read three or four chapters out of a total of like 100 (ok, maybe it was 19. No seriously, it really was 19 chapters).
Anyways, it is needless to say that I was a little freaked and anxious. I knew that whatever score I got I was stuck with for the rest of the semester and couldn't shluff off any more. I got on campus plenty early and saw all my friends frantically cramming. Now, I need to say something here about test-day cram sessions.
Honestly, how much can it help? Say you studied 5 hours the night before, trying to cram as much information into your already crammed-full brain, drinking two or three cups of coffee, until you passed out on the couch from overload of info. You woke up and rushed to school, only to grab the exact same book with the exact same info that you had read 2 hours before (amount of sleep pending). I just don't see how looking over the stuff some more that didn't change over a night that has caused you to lose countless hours of sleep can help. Logic says it would hinder you.
I obviously didn't bring my book.
We were all uptight as could be, just wanting it to all be over. Most of us expected to fail even though we put on a happy face and told each other "I'm shooting for the A." Who knows how many people had already cried over the fact that this test , and the four or five following it, could make or break how far we made it in the program.
Now, it may seem like this whole thing is a complete over-exageration. But keep in mind that we were still in the dark. And the mind plays tricks on you in the dark, making you think things are a certain way, which they aren't, and making you see things you think are there, which they aren't. So, even though we may have had a chance to redeem ourselves on a later test, we were just seeing the current crisis and nothing more. Sound like our society at all? Maybe, maybe not...
...long story short, I passed along with the rest of my crew. We went to celebrate at Pei-Wei. The end (for now).
Anyways, it is needless to say that I was a little freaked and anxious. I knew that whatever score I got I was stuck with for the rest of the semester and couldn't shluff off any more. I got on campus plenty early and saw all my friends frantically cramming. Now, I need to say something here about test-day cram sessions.
Honestly, how much can it help? Say you studied 5 hours the night before, trying to cram as much information into your already crammed-full brain, drinking two or three cups of coffee, until you passed out on the couch from overload of info. You woke up and rushed to school, only to grab the exact same book with the exact same info that you had read 2 hours before (amount of sleep pending). I just don't see how looking over the stuff some more that didn't change over a night that has caused you to lose countless hours of sleep can help. Logic says it would hinder you.
I obviously didn't bring my book.
We were all uptight as could be, just wanting it to all be over. Most of us expected to fail even though we put on a happy face and told each other "I'm shooting for the A." Who knows how many people had already cried over the fact that this test , and the four or five following it, could make or break how far we made it in the program.
Now, it may seem like this whole thing is a complete over-exageration. But keep in mind that we were still in the dark. And the mind plays tricks on you in the dark, making you think things are a certain way, which they aren't, and making you see things you think are there, which they aren't. So, even though we may have had a chance to redeem ourselves on a later test, we were just seeing the current crisis and nothing more. Sound like our society at all? Maybe, maybe not...
...long story short, I passed along with the rest of my crew. We went to celebrate at Pei-Wei. The end (for now).
The Chronicles of a Student Nurse, 1.1
So, here we are, fourth week in. We had hospital orientation yesterday and all I can say is wow! Here's how it went down. I set my alarm for 4:45, allowing for a small 15-minute snooze button period. At five, I was up and out of bed, running mainly on fear and anxiety rather than the bowl of frosted flakes and glass of OJ. I donned my smurf-colored scrubs (don't even ask), and I was out the door at the earliest hour I remember ever being awake in my life.
There is an ethereal glow you can sense in those early morning hours. It might the mysterious glow of dawn about to come over the horizon, but I suspected it was from the bright moon shining through the clouds and the yellow street lights glancing off the swaying trees. As I got in my car I said a little prayer that went a little something like this: "God, don't let me fail. Please don't let me kill anyone (whether I'm doing something with the patient or not). Lord, don't let me cry in front of anyone. Give me strength. And, oh yeah, Jesus...don't let me look like an idiot. Amen."
I drove on the highway and made my exit no problem. After parking at the garage and hoping the fact that the ticket machine was out of order wouldn't stop me from getting out at the end of the day, I met two classmates and crossed the not-so-busy Harry Hines to the lobby where, miraculously, everyone made it on time. Our teacher asked us for our paperwork (which I had spent hours doing, quadruple-checking, and praying over so that I wouldn't forget anything), and I held my breath as I handed it to her. She scanned it, said "thank you"; I let out a quick whimper of thanksgiving, and that was the whole ordeal.
She gave us a quick tour of the hospital and told us we would be following around the PCAs for an hour and a half. Our group dropped off each pair one-by-one at our assigned floors and we said our goodbyes. We were dropped off second to last, and by that time the shift change was underway. Everyone was running around and, even though it looked like mass chaos, somehow everyone knew where they were going and what they had to do. My excuse and answer for the perpetual deer-in-the-headlights look these next two years is going to be, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm just a student." It sounds like a fool-proof plan to me...
After hours of conferences, a scarfed-down, yet completely savored, lunch, and 30 minutes of quick chart readings and assignments, we were done. As I left the hospital with a headache like I had never had before, blood-red eyes that I had to force to stay open due to lack of sleep, and a mind so crammed full of new information it was about to burst, I walked out with a look of triumph on my face. I smiled as I thought about how I survived my first day of many. But I'm not allowed to think of that right now. I told myself that if I wanted to survive...
...it would be one day at a time.
There is an ethereal glow you can sense in those early morning hours. It might the mysterious glow of dawn about to come over the horizon, but I suspected it was from the bright moon shining through the clouds and the yellow street lights glancing off the swaying trees. As I got in my car I said a little prayer that went a little something like this: "God, don't let me fail. Please don't let me kill anyone (whether I'm doing something with the patient or not). Lord, don't let me cry in front of anyone. Give me strength. And, oh yeah, Jesus...don't let me look like an idiot. Amen."
I drove on the highway and made my exit no problem. After parking at the garage and hoping the fact that the ticket machine was out of order wouldn't stop me from getting out at the end of the day, I met two classmates and crossed the not-so-busy Harry Hines to the lobby where, miraculously, everyone made it on time. Our teacher asked us for our paperwork (which I had spent hours doing, quadruple-checking, and praying over so that I wouldn't forget anything), and I held my breath as I handed it to her. She scanned it, said "thank you"; I let out a quick whimper of thanksgiving, and that was the whole ordeal.
She gave us a quick tour of the hospital and told us we would be following around the PCAs for an hour and a half. Our group dropped off each pair one-by-one at our assigned floors and we said our goodbyes. We were dropped off second to last, and by that time the shift change was underway. Everyone was running around and, even though it looked like mass chaos, somehow everyone knew where they were going and what they had to do. My excuse and answer for the perpetual deer-in-the-headlights look these next two years is going to be, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm just a student." It sounds like a fool-proof plan to me...
After hours of conferences, a scarfed-down, yet completely savored, lunch, and 30 minutes of quick chart readings and assignments, we were done. As I left the hospital with a headache like I had never had before, blood-red eyes that I had to force to stay open due to lack of sleep, and a mind so crammed full of new information it was about to burst, I walked out with a look of triumph on my face. I smiled as I thought about how I survived my first day of many. But I'm not allowed to think of that right now. I told myself that if I wanted to survive...
...it would be one day at a time.
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