Thursday, April 26, 2012

Beautiful Things


"What a day to be alive, what a day to realize your not dead." Greg Laswell

I am gonna try and do my due diligence and write more often. Life is different. I have said this before because it's seems that things are constantly changing and my mind is changing with them. When things get different, I often find myself reeling and don't make the time to write things down. I do realize that these are the most important times for personal records, but I just don't and never did want to write just for an audience. I love those that read what I write and so happy you enjoy sharing in my life...but I want to write for me, and my kids.

Over the past few weeks I have been back and forth with dreams and memories of Will. As I said before, things are changing. Before when I would remember him, I would think of death and goodbye. Lately, I have been thinking about the joys of being alive and the beautiful things that exist in this world. These are the signature of God at the bottom of the painting for me. In the work of art, there are various forms of viscous chaos mixed with beauty that the eye cannot even understand. I think of Will and I miss him, but I think of life. I think of the things I could do to be brighter and shine more brilliantly. I have found ministry in nursing. I read the the passage in the Bible that says:

Matt 25:34 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ 

I do believe this is the description of nursing. There is no more a destitute floor than the one I work on. Everyone could go at any moment and many of them do. They are people raised in a ghetto in a hospital in the ghetto. Some have become one with the bed that eats away their flesh from underneath them. Most are completely dependent on me and the support staff on the floor to keep them alive. As humans, we keep people alive when we raise kids and when we take care of our grandparents, but it is a different thing to think that if I do not give this medication, this patient may die. I am finding a spiritual home in my work, and I aspire to be the very best I can under God. I believe when we work hard and pray hard, He works all good things out for us.

The issue that I have been having is that, right now, I am trained to save a life. If your heart were to stop in front of me, I have the knowledge and skill to significantly increase your chances of survival. But just 2 1/2 years ago on the other side of my telephone was a dying person that I could not save. He was calling for my help, but I was absent. It does upset me, but as I said before, I am not thinking negatively anymore. This makes me want to not miss it again. I want to know what to do and be diligent in prayer to make a difference between life and death. Because life is beautiful. In some very strange ways, life is perfect. It is balanced. There is always beauty to be seen in every disaster. I have been trying to take photos in the ghetto where I work of both beautiful and sad things I have found there...because if beauty can be found there, it can be found anywhere. Here are a couple.


 The first taken outside of a very sick person's window she stares out of 24 hours a day for the last 45 days.

The second is a crime scene just outside the gates of the hospital as the news people interrogate the family of the victim.

The third is a house fire just off of the freeway I take to my job. The family stood on the sidewalk and watched all of their memories float away in that smoke,

The fourth is the courtyard in the middle of my hospital. It sits quietly among, quite possible the ugliest and trashiest building that is still being used in the country.
 






Sing.
Migrate.





Thanks for reading...Z