Nursing wasn’t an easy decision. It wasn’t something that I had dreamed of since I was a little girl. In fact, when I was younger I was sure that I would win the next season of American Idol. Until my mama gently broke it to me that I, in fact, did not have the vocals to follow that dream. That was when my mom introduced me to the idea of nursing. But, being the stubborn girl I am, I decided that I would figure out what I wanted to do on my own without my mother’s assistance, thank you very much. Fast forward years later and I found out that my mother was right. Like always.

But, like I said, it wasn’t easy. It was heartbreaking and unbearable and completely right. It was late January of my junior year when I found out my dad was going to die. Too dramatic? I’m gonna say a hard no because when stuff like that happens it’s best just to say it how it is. And I didn’t know what to do. Where’s the guide book? That manual that tells you to take videos together and never leave the conversation angry--well, it doesn’t exist. Instead, we would have to wing it. Fortunately, my mama has some previous experience working as a nursing and medical assistant, so we pulled through together. We did our best to keep my sweet father going. But towards the end, it just became exhausting.

There were people who will always have a piece of my heart because of the love they displayed through meals, company and taking care of our basic needs when we felt like we couldn’t take another step. A special thank you, though, goes to our nurses who were real life superheroes. They didn’t do anything extraordinary. They weren’t people who went above and beyond the call of duty. But that’s because what they do is already enough. The nurses were the ones who brought in comfort measures, who made it so my dad could pass away in our home, and most of all, they walked us through what to do when the time finally came. They were there. Not often, but enough...enough for me to say, “Yeah, this might be something I would want to do for the rest of my life”.

So, after my father went home to be with Jesus. I set it into motion. I researched and I read and I came up with my tentative plan for my nursing career. Then, like everything in life, I started to question. To question my resolve, my qualifications, and mostly my ability to do the job well. That confirmation of ability didn’t come until a year later when I signed up for and completed CNA training. I walked into the nursing home and I was supposed to take care of these people who have lived a full life and deserve the utmost care. I was scared as heck. And to be honest, at the end of each day, I often felt like I had failed. But it was the last night of clinicals when the confidence kicked in and I just felt love. So much love. Love that the Lord had placed in my heart for people, specifically the ones rejected by the world.

With that confirmation I continued on. I have found myself falling in love with a career that can help support my love of the city life and can just as easily take me out into the mission field. It’s an occupation, but more importantly, it’s a passion. It requires empathy, encouragement, and a whole lot of Jesus. It’s about being the patient’s support that doesn’t lose their cool, bringing reminders of hope, and a listening ear. It’s both versatile and challenging. At the end of the day, it’s a chance to take the last bit of skills that my dad could teach me and extend them to someone else who needs to be taken care of for a while and finally rest.

So, I chose nursing because my eyes light up when I see blood and I can put on a bandage. I chose nursing because my mama is almost always right. I chose nursing because maybe the Lord will use me and my passions to make the world a little bit brighter.