The red, white and blue light crew

Tonight is the night! Yes, this evening I get to do something new! Something exciting! Something that could change lives for the better.

Red white and blue light crew

is it me? is it you?
who is on the light life crew?
what do you see? what do you do?
when you’re on the life light crew?
isn’t there so much to do
so many things to process through
I wonder what it holds for you
when you’re on the light life crew
they’re not the proud
maybe not the few
but, really, do you know what they do
I mean, they are the life light crew
the ones you call when in arrest
and holding them close to your chest
that doors and windows will come through
who else but the light life crew
do you know who would try for you?
or better yet, stave off die for you?
so many things the team goes though
what team, oh yes, the life light crew
assess and manage is the call
to try and save not one but all
and to decide just what to do
after finding just a clue or two
tonight, the crew will be one more
as I will step off from the shore
and hope to help add one to two
this night, I aid the light life crew

And I am so PUMPED!!! It’s an overnight shift, so I stayed in bed extra late, I’m talking noon, here, which was pretty uncomfortable. I am packing snack-ums for the shift, but eating meals right before and after with Casey.

Captain Scarna (so glad he’s back from Italy, that was such a long, long week and a half) will meet us at Boston EMS Headquarters and drive us to our satellites at 10pm. Our shifts start at 11pm and go to 7am.

I have my stethoscope, my pants, my shirt, my snow boots (because they are waterproof and can be bleach soaked afterwards). I am taking flashcards, both with diagnoses on them, as well as blank ones to take notes on the calls.

I apologize for the awful grammar within my rhyming entry, but I will not edit it now: I have a ride-along to get ready for!

On my to-do list:
Shower
Spend time with Jesus
Prepare with a little studying
Pray some more
Pack my (food) bag and kit
Empty my wallet of all non-essentials
Prepare mentally
Not being so excited I miss steps

Over-prepared, party of one? Your table is ready.

Hi! My name is Boston Found. (pause) I am prone to over-preparing.

I like being prepared. Whether that means buying groceries not on my list, getting the lowdown on a professor before the semester begins, or double-checking the water level in my humidifier, I like being prepared.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sorry about this, by any stretch of the imagination, but I am aware that others are not used to this.

The good news is, I’m beginning EMT-Basic training in less than 2 weeks! (13 days. I’m so ready.) But I know that being ready excitement wise is not the same as actually being prepared. So…I checked out a copy of an EMT-B textbook from my nearest (not really, 45 minute commute away) library. I don’t know if it is the textbook we will use, they will give us our books on the first day of class, but the material should be nearly identical. How much can change about how to bandage a protruding object or childbirth protocols? I checked it out yesterday and last night I read the first chapter…and made flashcards. Tonight, on to the beginning of chapter 2, flashcards to come.

And really, I am so excited. I never imagined myself in an ambulance. I can’t even think about what the daily life looks like. Wow. But hey, what do I know? God knows my abilities because He created me. He’s always right. No matter the call, no matter the patient, God is always righteous. May His mercy grace us all. (You see what I did there? You like how I did that? ‘Cause grace and mercy are different…You see it.)

How do I get out of this?

Boy oh boy. What a ridiculous time this is. Within weeks I crack around the edges at my job, had a (hilariously) one-sided fall out with a friend, and lost my mind with church leadership. How did I get so broken? What a ridiculous time. What a ridiculous time.

What is so wrong with me that I do these things? I can’t. I can’t. There is so much wrong with the way I’ve handled things lately. And there’s no one I trust enough to process this through with me. Pathetic.

Yet, I can ask for forgiveness, and be forgiven. I can enter His presence, and be welcomed. How pathetic. I am as a deserter but am received as a ruler.

Lord, help me.

Back on the horse…or wagon…or whatever analogy you like

I’m just back on it!

So, yeah.

I fell off the face of the Earth a while ago, and not just on the blogging planet. But in everything. The things I typically find joy in, I wasn’t doing. Now, I wasn’t avoiding them because I have some ‘I should have no joy’ complex. Just the opposite actually. I was trying to be sure that what I enjoyed wasn’t a way for me to attempt to control things or a dependency problem.

Outcome?

It’s not (only) a way for me to be aware of what’s going on, it’s also the way God wired me. I enjoy administrative tasks because it’s one way God designed me to experience joy. I enjoy leading because it’s one of God’s ways for me to experience joy. I enjoy touching others because it’s a way I experience joy. I enjoy being excited and upbeat when greeting or re-greeting others because… you get the picture. Problem solved.

I know it only took you about 30 seconds to read that, but that took me weeks, no, months to identify and then deal with. Months! 5, if you want to know. I had to think back to WHY I ever stopped doing those things. WHY I ever made the decision to tone down, water down, dumb down those parts of myself. It started with some careless comments, but also included explicit examples of what was not needed. Not that I am against advice, or hate correction, because I don’t desire to be stupid or offensive. But I took those opinions and words with NO salt and directly applied them to my every behavior. I began to second guess how I greeted people, whether my touch upset someone, was my voice too loud?

Ever since then, it’s been getting worse. And I don’t mean to sound above anyone or superior because I know that we all hold equal value, but I wasn’t made that way. I wasn’t made to align myself with the middle. I wasn’t created to assimilate my personality with those around me. I wasn’t made to meet the median in the middle and never deviate. And neither were you.

So, I’m over it. I’m over being silenced in mood, behavior and speech. Over it. The lie has been discovered and will be henceforth eliminated. I don’t have to listen to that. And I darn sure don’t have to believe it. Is there wisdom in discretion? Yes. In fact, discretion is the better part of valor. But I will no longer be diminishing my behavior across the board by off-handed words spoken by people I love and appreciate without testing it.

So, here’s to bringing pushed back, name-called, ignored Lexi back to the forefront. May God work through me.

Now Playing Out

All of the issues I never knew I had.

Ever since Campus Harvest at the end of March, God has really been showing me why I operate certain ways. I really think He was going to resolve one issue and then move on, but I keep not wanting to go into any of them. The result is that now there are about 5 files open, and I’m really nervous about opening any more.  I gotta deal with these now before bigger fish get fried. So, here’s a snippet from the current issues I never knew I had.

Relational: Alright, in trying to be fair, I KNEW I had issues with this. I mean, the first 5 years of my life could be a Lifetime movie. But I thought those issues only pertained to parental bonding. Now, that’s not a trivial thing. Parental bonding problems stir up relationships between (obviously) me and my parents. The connecting tissues also reach to my role as a parent, how I’ll relate to, raise, rebuke my children. It relates to my relationship with my spouse. My relationship with my family members closest to my immediate family. Since none of those things have personally happened to me yet (though I think I still want them) it affects me in the same ways, but from a single perspective. Example: As a nanny, how I relate to the children I oversee. How I relate to my joyfully married bosses. The way I view and process discipline and communication in their home. It seems I am continually battling against these mindsets.

Outside of that, my relationships with anybody, and I mean anybody, that could potentially be a mate are hard to regulate. Only exacerbated by my interpretation of what healthy relationships should look like. My pendulum swings about 30 different ways. Half of them completely synonymous with apathetic. Which makes keeping up with my brothers’ lives ohsomuchfun.

In other news, I am a vain, vain human. I have never been very boastful. A jerk, yeah. But not really boastful. Due to that, I thought I was humble. Terrible assumption. It’s not that I was humble, but that I appreciated being behind the scenes because then, well, without me it really would not have been possible. I’m in no way downplaying my role, or feeling guilty for the particular leanings that God gave me (or that I enjoy and will continue to operate in them), I’m just saying that I’ve enjoyed being behind the scenes because it feeds my ego well above being center stage. Who knew?

Well, I gotta rouse the kiddos from nap. I guess we’ll pick this up later. Pray for me!

Astounded

His faithfulness astounds me.

It’s been what? Two weeks? Two weeks of me inconsistently praying as I said I would. Two weeks of me forgetting for hours what I committed to do. Two weeks of me trying to be wisely be the woman you’ve ordained me to be.

And in that time. Only 13 days later, I’m seeing results.

I guess I was frigid, uncaring. Now that I’m actively trying, striving to honor you in every way, results have come quickly. I know you don’t employ a universal approach to each situation, much less each person. But, wow.

Astounded. Astounding. How your faithfulness astounds me. Thank you, Lord, for what you’ve done in me, around me, regardless of me.

Praise Your holy Name.

Me

It’s me. It’s my selfish, willful disobedience that separates me from God. It’s not his law of justice. It’s not his punishment of sin. It’s not his law of atonement. It’s me.

It’s. Me.

Only my sins killed him. Only my sins called for his sacrifice. Only my pure and utter selfishness caused very God of very God to hold himself on the Cross.

Only me. Only my sins. Only my hands with blood on them. Only my fists striking him. Only my words cursing him. Only me. It’s only me.

It’s. Only. Me.

And I am not worthy.

These people love their Ball

“C’mon, now, double play!”

“You throw like a girl.”

“Please don’t hit my car.”

“A couple more people and we could have a game.”

“She throws better than you. Look at that.”

The Sox showed off, with their opener a victory versus New York. And the city was alive with the love of the Game.

The comments came as Isaac and I were throwing a softball around to help break in my brand new glove. Complete strangers were heckling and encouraging, talking smack and throwing jokes while we tossed the ball in the Johnnie’s parking lot.

A black girl, a white guy, and a few baseball items were all it took to unite folks driving by. In Florida, we could have thrown for hours, with no other comments beside the third one on the list, (I know you had to look at it, so did I) and a bunch of them.

But, man, these people love their Ball. It was great to get to see that, to see some of the life of the city show itself. The longer I’m here, the more I experience, the harder it’s going to make it to leave this great, great city.

For the love of Boston, Christ came…

IV wide open

What a pitiful, critical patient am I. I was rehabilitated, treated, and mostly healed the last time I went in.

But this time, I was already hooked up to the bag, already fading between consciousness and delusion, already pretty worried, when the doctor called out, “IV wide open.”

I came in on my own this time, doc. I did. There were a few times where I wanted to, thought I should, but, really…does it really seem that serious? I mean, I was able to walk, talk, eat, work. What’s that called? A functional addiction? Hahaha. No, I guess it’s not that funny considering the condition I’m in.

I understand that now. I understand that I should have come in sooner. I could have. I just, I mean, it wasn’t a big problem. And rehab is just, it’s so embarrassing.  Look at how many witnesses there are already.

What they think? No, that’s not necessarily important. But who they tell is. How? Um, I don’t really have an answer for that one. There’s just some folks I’d rather not have to talk to about this.

I wouldn’t use the term ‘afraid.’ What about ‘hesitant’, ‘private’, ‘discerning’?

I don’t like coming in here anymore than you like to see me like this. Look, can you just give me the once over and let me go?

Sure, I trust you to do what’s best. I AM relaxed! Drowsy, but relaxed.

What…What paperwork? There was no paperwork last time. Heavier consequences? Greater accountability? To whom?

This guy? Who’s he? But, wait, I can’t, what’s going on? Hold on…hard to stay awake…please, wait…

“The OR ready? Good. Let’s go. Hang ANOTHER bag, and I mean WIDE OPEN THIS TIME!”

Found this a while ago

Mary Lena Lathrop “A Woman’s Answer to a Man’s Question”

Do you know you have asked for the costliest thing
Ever made by the hand above–
A woman’s heart, and a woman’s life
And a woman’s wonderful love?

Do you know you have asked for this priceless thing
As a child might ask for a toy,
Demanding what others have died to win,
With the reckless dash of a boy?

You have written my lesson of duty out,
Man-like you have questioned me;
Now stand at the bar of my woman’s soul
Until I shall question thee.

You require your mutton shall always be hot,
Your socks and your shirt be whole;
I require your heart to be true as God’s stars,
And as pure as heaven your soul.

You require a cook for your mutton and beef;
I require a far better thing.
A seamstress you’re wanting for socks and shirts;
I look for a man and a king.

A king for the beautiful realm called home,
And a man that the maker, God,
Shall look upon as he did the first
And say, “It is very good.”

I am fair and young, but the rose will fade
From my soft, young cheek one day,
Will you love me then ‘mid the falling leaves,
As you did ‘mid the bloom of May?

Is your heart an ocean so strong and deep,
I may launch my all on its tide?
A loving woman finds heaven or hell
On the day she is made a bride.

I require all things that are grand and true,
All things that a man should be;
If you give all this, I would stake my life
To be all you demand of me.

If you cannot do this — a laundress and cook
You can hire, with little to pay,
But a woman’s heart and a woman’s life
Are not to be won that way.