When you’re a work in progress.

I wish I could do better – to not need to go through an emotional rollercoaster every time I have some sort of disappointment or setback. I wish I could just automatically engage full throttle “faith-mode” and be content with whatever my current reality may be at the time.

But that’s not really how it goes in Debi’s world. Not at all.

I’m re-sharing a post today that is near and dear to my heart … and more true every year. I personally need reminding over and over again. And by looking at the people out in the world around me, I have a feeling I’m not the only one. So I’m sending this one out again in hopes that it’ll help lift you somehow, as it did me today when it reminded me EXACTLY why I need that baby we’re celebrating right now. He’s not through growing me. Thank you, Jesus. Just thank you. ❤

Claw marks on the Merry Christmas Highway.

When poopers lurk in the bathroom.

I was smack dab in the middle of 5 years of nonstop nursing school. Or rather 5 years of nonstop frantically-trying-not-to-drown-from-the-pressure-because-they’re-cramming-so-much-into-your-head-that-it-feels-like-you’re-drinking-from-a-firehose-that-never-turns-off. And it won’t stop until you pass your boards. That’s exactly the place where I was that day.

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On wrestling with that ice-cold bucket of Plan B.

These last few months have been full of accepting unwanted realities, haven’t they? Actually, my last few years have been weighted pretty heavily with this, if I’m totally honest. Illness, challenges, pain, disappointments, shock, loss, grief, acceptance … I personally continue to trip my way through this muck of tangles on a daily basis.

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On catching everybody up.

Totally confuddling my mind today is the realization that “Growing Nurse Debi” continues to grow! This is not because of me, my friends, but in SPITE of me. God alone receives all the glory here.

So … in light of all these new readers … I thought it would be a good idea to re-share the backstory of how it all began … ❤

How we’ve come to this place.

On grabbing hold of some squiggly, wiggly joy.

You can call us crazy, if you want. It’s okay. You can shake your heads with that knowing smile at the chaos that’s certain to become our lives. We don’t mind. You can even think it’s way too soon after losing our sweet Cookie just a week before. That’s fine. We just disagree.

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