Note From My Mom

Hi baby girl:

I enjoyed yesterday and wanted to say I love you and you are one of my blessings.

Enjoy today and have a good week.

-Mom

I love you too, Mom. Needed that today.

Memo from an ER Doctor at St. Johns Hospital in Joplin, Missouri

My name is Dr. Kevin Kikta, and I was one of two emergency room doctors who were on duty at St. John’s Regional Medical Center in Joplin, MO on Sunday,

May 22, 2011.


You never know that it will be the most important day of your life until
the day is over. The day started like any other day for me: waking up,
eating, going to the gym, showering, and going to my 4:00 pm ER shift. As I drove to the hospital I mentally prepared for my shift as I always do, but nothing could ever have prepared me for what was going to happen on this shift. Things were normal for the first hour and half. At approximately 5:30 pm we received a warning that a tornado had been spotted. Although I work in Joplin and went to medical school in

Oklahoma, I live in New Jersey, and I have never seen or been in a tornado. I learned that a “code gray” was being called. We were to start bringing patients to safer spots within the ED and hospital.


At 5:42 pm a security guard yelled to everyone, “Take cover! We are about to get hit by a tornado!” I ran with a pregnant RN, Shilo Cook, while others scattered to various places, to the only place that I was familiar with in the hospital without windows, a small doctor’s office in the ED.
Together, Shilo and I tremored and huddled under a desk. We heard a loud horrifying sound like a large locomotive ripping through the hospital. The whole hospital shook and vibrated as we heard glass shattering, light bulbs popping, walls collapsing, people screaming, the ceiling caving in above us, and water pipes breaking, showering water down on everything. We suffered this in complete darkness, unaware of anyone else’s status,
worried, scared. We could feel a tight pressure in our heads as the tornado annihilated the hospital and the surrounding area. The whole process took about 45 seconds, but seemed like eternity. The hospital had just taken a direct hit from a category EF5 tornado.


Then it was over. Just 45 seconds. 45 long seconds. We looked at each
other, terrified, and thanked God that we were alive. We didn’t know, but
hoped that it was safe enough to go back out to the ED, find the rest of
the staff and patients, and assess our losses.


“Like a bomb went off. ” That’s the only way that I can describe what we
saw next. Patients were coming into the ED in droves. It was absolute,
utter chaos. They were limping, bleeding, crying, terrified, with debris
and glass sticking out of them, just thankful to be alive. The floor was
covered with about 3 inches of water, there was no power, not even backup
generators, rendering it completely dark and eerie in the ED. The
frightening aroma of methane gas leaking from the broken gas lines
permeated the air; we knew, but did not dare mention aloud, what that
meant. I redoubled my pace.

We had to use flashlights to direct ourselves to the crying and wounded. Where did all the flashlights come from? I’ll never know,
but immediately, and thankfully, my years of training in emergency
procedures kicked in. There was no power, but our mental generators
were up and running, and on high test adrenaline. We had no cell
phone service in the first hour, so we were not even able to call for
help and backup in the ED.



I remember a patient in his early 20’s gasping for breath, telling me that
he was going to die. After a quick exam, I removed the large shard of
glass from his back, made the clinical diagnosis of a pneumothorax
(collapsed lung) and gathered supplies from wherever I could locate them to insert a thoracostomy tube in him. He was a trooper; I’ll never forget his courage. He allowed me to do this without any local anesthetic since none could be found. With his life threatening injuries I knew he was running out of time, and it had to be done. Quickly. Imagine my relief when I heard a big rush of air, and breath sounds again; fortunately, I was able to get him transported out. I immediately moved on to the next patient, an asthmatic in status asthmaticus. We didn’t even have the option of trying a nebulizer treatment or steroids, but I was able to get him intubated using a flashlight that I held in my mouth. A small child of approximately 3-4 years of age was crying; he had a large avulsion of skin to his neck and spine. The gaping wound revealed his cervical spine and upper thoracic spine bones. I could actually count his vertebrae with my fingers. This was a child, his whole life ahead of him, suffering life threatening wounds in front of me, his eyes pleading me to help him.. We could not find any pediatric C collars in the darkness, and water from the shattered main pipes was once again showering down upon all of us. Fortunately, we were able to get him immobilized with towels, and start an IV with fluids and pain meds before shipping him out. We felt paralyzed and helpless ourselves. I didn’t even know a lot of the RN’s I was working with. They were from departments scattered all over the hospital. It didn’t matter.
We worked as a team, determined to save lives. There were no specialists
available -- my orthopedist was trapped in the OR. We were it, and we knew we had to get patients out of the hospital as quickly as possible. As we were shuffling them out, the fire department showed up and helped us to evacuate. Together we worked furiously, motivated by the knowledge and
fear that the methane leaks could cause the hospital could blow up at any
minute.


Things were no better outside of the ED. I saw a man crushed under a large
SUV, still alive, begging for help; another one was dead, impaled by a
street sign through his chest. Wounded people were walking, staggering,
all over, dazed and shocked. All around us was chaos, reminding me of
scenes in a war movie, or newsreels from bombings in Bagdad. Except this
was right in front of me and it had happened in just 45 seconds. My own
car was blown away. Gone. Seemingly evaporated. We searched within a half mile radius later that night, but never found the car, only the littered, crumpled remains of former cars. And a John Deere tractor that had blown in from miles away.


Tragedy has a way of revealing human goodness. As I worked, surrounded by
devastation and suffering, I realized I was not alone. The people of the
community of Joplin were absolutely incredible. Within minutes of the
horrific event, local residents showed up in pickups and sport utility
vehicles, all offering to help transport the wounded to other facilities,
including Freeman, the trauma center literally across the street.
Ironically, it had sustained only minimal damage and was functioning
(although I’m sure overwhelmed). I carried on, grateful for the help of
the community.


Within hours I estimated that over 100 EMS units showed up from various
towns, counties and four different states. Considering the circumstances,
their response time was miraculous. Roads were blocked with downed utility lines, smashed up cars in piles, and they still made it through.


We continued to carry patients out of the hospital on anything that we
could find: sheets, stretchers, broken doors, mattresses,
wheelchairs—anything that could be used as a transport mechanism.


As I finished up what I could do at St John’s, I walked with two RN’s,
Shilo Cook and Julie Vandorn, to a makeshift MASH center that was being set up miles away at Memorial Hall. We walked where flourishing neighborhoods once stood, astonished to see only the disastrous remains of flattened homes, body parts, and dead people everywhere. I saw a small dog just wimpering in circles over his master who was dead, unaware that his master would not ever play with him again. At one point we tended to a young woman who just stood crying over her dead mother who was crushed by her own home. The young woman covered her mother up with a blanket and then asked all of us, “What should I do?” We had no answer for her, but silence and tears.


By this time news crews and photographers were starting to swarm around,
and we were able to get a ride to Memorial Hall from another RN. The chaos was slightly more controlled at Memorial Hall. I was relieved to see many of my colleagues, doctors from every specialty, helping out. It was amazing to be able to see life again. It was also amazing to see how fast workers mobilized to set up this MASH unit under the circumstances.
Supplies, food, drink, generators, exam tables, all were there—except
pharmaceutical pain meds. I sutured multiple lacerations, and splinted many fractures, including some open with bone exposed, and then intubated
another patient with severe COPD, slightly better controlled conditions
this time, but still less than optimal.


But we really needed pain meds. I managed to go back to the St John’s with another physician, pharmacist, and a sheriff’s officer. Luckily, security let us in to a highly guarded pharmacy to bring back a garbage bucket sized supply of pain meds.


At about midnight I walked around the parking lot of St. John’s with local
law enforcement officers looking for anyone who might be alive or trapped
in crushed cars. They spray-painted “X”s on the fortunate vehicles that
had been searched without finding anyone inside. The unfortunate vehicles
wore “X’s” and sprayed-on numerals, indicating the number of dead inside,
crushed in their cars, cars which now resembled flattened recycled
aluminum cans the tornado had crumpled in her iron hands, an EF5 tornado,
one of the worst in history, whipping through this quiet town with demonic
strength. I continued back to Memorial hall into the early morning hours
until my ER colleagues told me it was time for me to go home. I was
completely exhausted. I had seen enough of my first tornado.


How can one describe these indescribable scenes of destruction? The next
day I saw news coverage of this horrible, deadly tornado. It was excellent coverage, and Mike Bettes from the Weather Channel did a great job, but there is nothing that pictures and video can depict compared to seeing it in person. That video will play forever in my mind.


I would like to express my sincerest gratitude to everyone involved in
helping during this nightmarish disaster. My fellow doctors, RN’s, techs,
and all of the staff from St. John’s. I have worked at St John’s for
approximately 2 years, and I have always been proud to say that I was a
physician at St John’s in Joplin, MO. The smart, selfless and immediate
response of the professionals and the community during this catastrophe
proves to me that St John’s and the surrounding community are special.
I am beyond proud.
To the members of this community, the health care workers from states away, and especially Freeman Medical Center, I commend everyone on unselfishly coming together and giving 110% the way that you all did, even in your own time of need. St John’s Regional Medical Center is gone, but her spirit and goodness lives on in each of you.


EMS, you should be proud of yourselves. You were all excellent, and did a
great job despite incredible difficulties and against all odds


For all of the injured who I treated, although I do not remember your names (nor would I expect you to remember mine) I will never forget your faces.
I’m glad that I was able to make a difference and help in the best way that I knew how, and hopefully give some of you a chance at rebuilding your lives again. For those whom I was not able to get to or treat, I apologize whole heartedly.


Last, but not least, thank you, and God bless you, Mercy/St John’s for
providing incredible care in good times and even more so, in times of the
unthinkable, and for all the training that enabled us to be a team and
treat the people and save lives.


Sincerely,


Kevin J. Kikta, DO
Department of Emergency Medicine
Mercy/St John’s Regional Medical Center, Joplin, MO

I Want to Live a Love Story

I've been aching to write lately. I can't remember the last time I felt this way, but tonight I have some alone time, a glass of wine, and my safe little blogspot that I've neglected far too long.

I imagine you're thinking from the title of this post I'm about to write about some man and a fairy tale. Not so much, you'll see.

Let me start with this week. If I had to sum up this week, I'd describe it by the following events:

1. I spent all of Saturday and Sunday in bed. I literally did not remove myself from my bed. I watched The Notebook, Love Song, Eat,Pray,Love, My Best Friend's Wedding, The Notebook again, all of the previous week's Oprah episodes. And I slept, more than I've slept in months. I also cried. I'll get to the crying in a moment.

2. I reached the 2-year mark with JC.

3. My parent's put their house up for sale. The house I still call home has a for-sale sign in the yard.

Now zoom out to the last month.

1. We moved. Back to apartment life until I can afford to buy a house. I'm loving it, especially the 5-minute commute and park within walking distance.

2. A tornado ripped through St. Louis, literally within 5 miles of the new place.

3. My best friend sat me down and listened while I broke open.

OK now zoom to the past year.

1. I moved away from a city that I LOVED. And although I loved St. Louis when I left, I feel as if someone picked me up and plopped me down here and it's not MY hometown anymore. Everything is the same, but I'm different and I don't know how to function here.

2. I started a job that I'm grateful to have, but ... well there's just a but.

3. I miss. That's not an incomplete statement. This is how I feel. I just miss. It's not a thing, or a person, or a place. I just feel that I've lost and am losing things... they're slipping away and I don't feel the way I felt one year ago. Maybe it was longer than that. Probably more like 2 years ago. All I know is that I remember feeling hopeful, excited, passionate, confident, content, loved, energetic, and full. And I miss. I just miss.

Back to the love story. I admit that I've watched too much TV lately. One show that I'm not ashamed of watching, however, is Shania Twain's Why Not on OWN. I've always loved Shania Twain. I think she's one of the few famous people that I think I would enjoy just being around. She makes me laugh and I think she's beautiful from the inside out. Anyway she said something that made me say out loud, "Me too!" It was something along the lines of feeling "choked up" all the time.

"The feeling you get when you want to cry but you fight it and you get all choked up ... it's as if now I permanently have that feeling, whether I want to cry or not!"

-Shania Twain

She goes on to admit that she's not a crier and doesn't think every human being needs a therapist. I started thinking about this. First, I absolutely agree. I don't want a therapist. But I feel as if I have slowly shut-up and in turn built up a tsunami of tears. I refuse to cry 99% of my life, but these days I'm always on the verge. I can't pinpoint one thing causing this, all I know is that I turn 25 in August and I feel obligated to start living out love rather than the silent, meaninglessness that I feel I've lived for the past couple of years.

Life's two most important questions are "why" and "why not." The trick is knowing which one to ask.

-Gordon Livingston

As I dwelled on my sadness and what to do about it this week, Oprah encouraged me to do something I don't know if I know how to do. She said to get to that quiet place and listen to the voice, you know the one that tells you what it is that you want and you need to hear. Maybe I know how, I just don't make the effort to get to that place and to listen. I have the weekend to myself, and I think I'm going to work on first getting to that peaceful place and then opening my heart, ears, mind, and soul to that voice. Because the love story I'm talking about isn't a white picket fence and a fairy-tale princess wedding. It's not about a man. It's knowing that what I do each day will leave footprints in this world that spell out love.

It Doesn’t Go Away

There are times when you want to say things to those you love, those close to you, but you can’t. You have to let them live it, feel it, learn it. Because me telling you what I know now, it’s not going to change the crazy things you’ll do or feel. It’s not going to change anything, it will only make me seem arrogant and complacent.

But allow me, for peace of mind, to tell you something that you’re about to discover.

It does not go away. There are certain people in your life, certain feelings that do not go away. They remain. They sit in a quiet corner of your heart and they are silently a part of you. The hurt they once imposed upon you, it returns like waves in the ocean. Constant, steady. Not every day, but ever-present. The love they once shed over you, it will haunt you. The lack of closure, it will keep on knocking. It’s not a matter of “getting over” or “moving on.” Yes, those things happen. But forgetting, forgiving, learning to love again the way you did that first time, I’m not sure it’s ever FULLY possible. Partially, of course. Completely, not so much. Here’s why.

A woman, she’s designed to love love. The first time she finds that, it’s irreversible, unchangeable, and most importantly it’s original. So to separate her from that, it’s like tearing her away from what she longed for up until that point. It’s to take away from her that sweet, innocent feeling of being told, “you are loved.” It’s to rip out of her arms and her possession the person who, for maybe just even a moment, fulfilled her every need. It, quite honestly, is to break her from that which completed her.

The thing about love like this, the “first” love. The “I still need you sometimes” love. The “Why am I still thinking about you?” love. The thing about it is that people think you’re supposed to pick up, drop off, move on. You’re supposed to all of the sudden forget that person. Even if you’re living streets from one another with completely new lives. Even if you’re supposedly “grown up” and “mature” and “so much better” than that which once was. You’re EXPECTED to be over it.

Here's what I want to yell though: I don’t think you do get over it! I don’t think it ever goes away. I think it’s something you learn to cope with. Learn to cherish, try to understand. But to make it fully go away. To expect that person who is so much a part of you somehow disappear. I don’t believe that happens. I think people lie to themselves, try to FORCE themselves to forget it, to make it “go away.” But I don’t think it’s wrong to still feel pain over something so precious. I don’t think it’s unfaithful to your new love, to sometimes be distracted or distraught over your past emotions. This is not to say, “I’m still in love with him or her,” but rather to admit, “Yes, I know what it’s like to have loved and lost. And sometimes, though I wish I were stronger, I’m not strong enough. I can’t deny I know that pain and that joy all in the same. I do know it. I do feel it as I would feel it to reach out and run cold water through my hair or burn my fingers on a hot iron. I know it and sometimes I have to be sad about it. And then I have to collect myself and keep going. Because it is gone. “

So though I wish I could tell you, “It gets better, it all goes away.” It does not. It remains. It hurts. It heals, but it leaves a scar. A visible one, not one that you can cover up with make up or a sweater. It does not ever fully go away, so please don’t hold that as your goal at the finish line. May you only wish to know the satisfaction in feeling that you’ve finally learned to hold yourself together after being absolutely broken into a million pieces. And be grateful that God gave you someone (or many someones) to love and be loved by. And most importantly, that you’ve learned to carry yourself with grace and composure rather than tears and in a state of disaster. That, in and of itself, is as much “closure” and “moving on” that I believe happens with time. The rest, time only makes hazy. It doesn’t heal as much as people say it does. I promise you, that, when face to face with your past or whatever/whomever it is you’re trying to move on from, when that dreadful moment comes that you try to prepare yourself for, I promise that your stomach will still clench, your heart will still ache. The only difference is that you’ll be able to keep your chin up and a smile on, and PRETEND you’re not effected. Other than that, it’s all still as horribly painful as it was on the day that you shut that door.

Catching Up

I just realized I haven't blogged in, hmm ... a VERY long time. Why? Mainly nothing new and exciting has been going on. No big news, not much to write about. But I figured it's time to at least write about the boring stuff that IS going on.

Today

I went to church. Got to hold precious little babies for 2 hours and then went to service. The message, as always, was just what I needed to hear. It was about purpose in life. Seems broad and unoriginal, but it was an incredibly necessary message, for me, today. I think what hit me most was when the he brought up how I pray. He said, "So often we pray for God to show us his plan for us. Now, that's not wrong. But there's something we must pray for first. And that is Him." Meaning: It's the person that comes first. It's seeking God and wanting Him and praying for his sovereignty in life, not to get in on his plan for me. Living for God's purpose starts with a person earnestly seeking the Lord, cultivating a heart for God in the mundane parts of life. It is more about me wanting him, than about me knowing His plan for my life. Once I seek Him, the plan will unfold. As I started flipping back through my prayer journal during the message, I can't tell you how many times I saw myself begging the Lord in the past 9 months, "Please, Lord, reveal your plan. Guide my path, direct my steps." That's not a bad prayer, but I've been missing it. I'm asking God to let me in on something that is exceptionally beyond my comprehension, instead of asking God to dwell in my body, mind, heart and soul so that I might become a person who seeks Him in everything. And viola! Or so I hope, my life will begin to have purpose. Because this _________ (relationship, job, school, friend, etc.) can never support the weight of my soul. Only He can. Which brings me to the next subject, how difficult it is going to be for me to move away from this church which has been such a soul-finding spot for me.

June & July

What am I doing and where am I going? I have no idea. And I do not like that that is the answer I have for anyone asking me that question lately. It's incredibly wearing on me as a person. I'm on the wait list at UMKC for law school. I've applied to a job in Columbia with Big Brothers Big Sisters, a non-profit organization that I've always been fond of. I've also applied to a few jobs in St. Louis. But no concrete decision has been made. Anyone who knows me, knows this is very unlike me.

However, this is what I do know about June and July. I will work as much as possible in June at the restaurant and I'm also doing research for an old professor and friend of mine for a little extra cash. I want to have every bill, including my car, paid off by the end of July because be it law school or a new house to pay rent on and decorate, I want to be in the best possible financial shoes possible. That being said, I'm going to have a very minimal social life. July 15, my lease ends. I will move in with Joe in his spare bedroom for 1 month. In that month, if I still haven't heard from UMKC or received a firm job offer, Joe and I will find a place to live in St. Louis and I will probably look for some sort of bartending/serving job there until I find a real, full-time job. I have lots of options there so it makes the most sense to move back to St. Louis. I've also been looking at and applying to several jobs in Denver. I'm not completely over the idea of moving to somewhere fun and adventurous for a few years before moving back to the Lou.

Maybe that helps explain why the message today about not trying to get in on God's plan was something I really needed to hear :)

Trip to Texas

Stacey and I rented a Prius (I highly recommend these rocket ship looking cars, we drove nearly 30 hours and spent roughly $55 on gas!) and headed to Killeen, Texas to visit Abbie, Don and baby Connor. I enjoyed the trip, especially getting to catch up with Stacey and seeing Abbie as a mommy. It was "wonderful weird," as Rachel from Friends once said, seeing her and holding her little boy. I also got to meet her husband for the first time, and it was awesome to see what a cute little family they are. It's weird how much you miss good conversation with close friends until you get a full 3-4 days of it. I needed it. Talking to Stacey on the drive was ... refreshing! She and I are in very similar and very different shoes, but she is by far one of my favorite people to talk about life with. I also got to do a little shopping :) Always a plus. Oklahoma was a very miserable drive, that is the one part of the trip I didn't enjoy. And I'm glad I visited Texas, but I don't ever see myself dying to live there again.

Trip to Mango with SB's

The week before Texas, I made a short trip to St. Louis for Casey's graduation party and then headed downtown to meet Jen, Susan, Jessie and Dom for dinner. It was one of those dinners that reminded me how very much those ladies mean to me. I say that but it doesn't really sum up how great they are. We just had one of those moments at dinner where we all looked at each other and were just so glad to be sitting there with each other, sharing secrets and understanding without reservation.

My "Boys"

Memphis is growing by the day. He is over 50 lbs now. His neutering went fine, I don't think he noticed, he was just so happy we came back to pick him up at the vet. He's starting to calm down enough to snuggle. I love the mornings where I wake up before he and Joe do and I just get to be wedged between them while they're both snoring. It's cute.

Joe graduated. He's also looking for a job. I'm having a graduation party for him on July 11th. Getting ready to send out the invites. He and I just celebrated 1 year on May 17th. I feel very lucky to have him in my life and we're both very excited to move on to the next steps in life, together.

Summer Happenings

June 6-9: Trip to KY to see my aunt :)

June 11-13: Wedding in Chicago with Joe's family

June 16: Dave Matthews in St. Louis!

July 11th: Joe's grad party

July 17th: LADY GAGA!

August 6: My 24th bday, Maria and Rebecca's Weddings :)

That's all I have for now. I'm going to try and get back to blogging at least once a week!

Why I Love the Lord

Today at church that question was posed: Why do you love Jesus? Well I've made plenty of lists in my life, trust me. I guess I never listed why I believe and why I love the Lord because I thought that list was an impossible project. The more I thought about it though, even if it's incomplete, isn't it still worth starting? It's not like I can't add or modify it later. So after church I got to spend some quiet time with God and I decided to put on paper why I love Him. Maybe this is personal to put out there, but I think it's something worth sharing. Some of these are from the sermon, most are from my heart.

1. He loved me first. This is something I truly came to understand this week. Of course I've heard it before, God first loved us so that we may too come to love him. But the more I thought about it, it just struck me this week. I never had a life-changing, coming to Christ moment. My life, in a series of events, has been a process of me coming to believe and love God more and more each day. I grew up in a Lutheran church, but there were moments along the way that God met me here on Earth via other human beings. The first, Renee. She was my 8th grade confirmation teacher. She glows with love. Seriously, she is one of those people you meet and instantly feel warmth and understanding pouring out of her. Then there was my life-long friend Rebecca, my high school friend Katie and then Stacey Marie and Rachel in college. All of these wonderful women have been God's megaphone to me. It was because of them (and many others I'm not thinking of like my mom, sister, aunt, cousins and pastors) that I was and am constantly reminded of the one thing that matters most - God loves me dearly. I went through and still struggle with my party like a crazy-woman, drink like I'm not 95 lbs personality. Do I love that person? Is that who I want to be? Is that who God made me to be? Not at all. So God keeps pulling me back, telling me he loves me, telling me he has great plans for me, reminding me he hasn't given up or forgotten about me. God won't let me put Him out of my mind, and I love Him for that.

2. He blesses me daily, hourly. I can honestly say, if someone told me today I have everything I'll ever have - no more money, no more people, no more stuff, I would be okay with it. I have more than I could ever hope for when it comes to blessings. And I love the Lord because even though I am satisfied, I know he'll keep on giving me more.

3. He has filled my life with rich, meaningful relationships. My friends, my family, my significant others. I know good people because the Lord led me to them and them to me. He chose better than I could ever have chosen and for that, I love Him.

4. He is beyond my understanding. I think there is this dilemma in the world where we think we need to know EVERYTHING. I am guilty of this. We want to be in the know, have heard about it, seen it and can tell others what they don't know. When it comes to God though, I LOVE that he is beyond human understanding. I LOVE that he is bigger than me and that I just have to accept that. I love learning something new about Him and His grace every time I open my bible or go to church or meet someone new. Many have heard this story - but one of the most surreal examples of God's grace in my life happened a few years ago in the Norfolk, VA airport. There I was, sitting alone in the airport, super upset and basically numb. I had just discovered some unfortunate news about my then boyfriend. I won't go into it, but most who read this know and if you don't - to put it simply I was in absolute shock. So this young woman approaches me and asks if my flight is delayed. I say, "No, it's not until Wednesday." (It was only Monday.) She kind of looked at me and I blurt out what just happened and tell her I'm trying to get a flight out of there ASAP. Then the following occurred (mind you we don't know one another's name, where we're from or where we're going) - she calls the airline and books me an earlier flight, tells me to hang on she's going to go get her rental car back, we get in the rental car and decide to share a hotel, she stops at Walgreens and runs in to purchase ice cream, girly magazines and vitamins (she said I looked like I was about to pass out), and then we venture on to the hotel. When this whirlwind stops and we're settled in I finally ask, "what's your name?" I'll never forget, her name was Talia (like tequila), she was from Atlanta, GA and she was on her way home from a mission trip in England. She asks me to tell her everything. When I finish she simply says, you need rest, can I pray for you. She then prayed for me for a long time (I don't remember how long, it was surreal like I said). I fell asleep and when I woke up in the morning she was gone, left the number for a cab and my flight info on the table. A few days later she called to see how I was. Now I if you want to say she was just a nice person, OK. I know she was God coming to meet with me, saying hey, "You might not understand me or this situation or know this person I sent to comfort you, but I love you. Stop trying to understand it all." I love the Lord for being beyond me.

5. He remembers everything AND forgives everything. He knows my life detail by detail. I truly believe I am an awful sinner, that I fail miserably at reflecting God's love every day. But he forgives me unquestionably and that is too much for me to ignore.

6. He is constantly surprising me.

7. He is the mastermind, an original thinker, smarter than any of the geniuses I think I know.

8. He comforts me in my loneliest hours.

9. I yearn for Him. when he's missing, I know it and He draws me near. This past week I was extremely disappointed. So I didn't pray for a few days. I was missing my friend that just moved away and I was angry that I didn't get a certain job. Nothing seemed to be making me feel better. And then I stopped to pray. He's the only comfort that ever works.

10. There is nothing outside of His realm.

11. He is everything to aspire to - patient, gentle, loving, kind, selfless, forgiving, aware. He's everything I'm not but all I can hope to be.

12. He's inarguable. No one can deny there is a living, loving God. His love and presence expands beyond explanation. There might be a hundred thousand different explanations of who God is or what His kingdom is like, but there is undeniably a God in this universe.

Psalm 139: Dee Dee's Adaptation

Jehovah, Sovereign God, always existing, one true God.

You have searched me - when I rise up in the morning, where I sit during the day, wherever I am, always.

You perceive, understand and know my thoughts. You recognize my ways and are familiar with them - my daily paths of life, my manners, my habits, my moral character.

You know what I will say, before I do. This is way too much for me to understand, to comprehend. Yet, this is from your word, so I believe it's true.

How do you hem me in? How is your hand upon me? Please let me recognize this today.

Your presence is everywhere, in the heavens, in the depths of the valleys and oceans. At the dawn of each new day, you are there. You are here, and if I travel to the farthest sea, you're there. You're light is in darkness; you illuminate even darkness.

You made me, created and formed me, reverently, honorably, respectfully, wonderfully. I was not hidden from you. You saw my unformed body. All my days were written in the past, before I was born.

Oh Sovereign Creator, thoughts of you are precious, yet I can't comprehend all of you.

You knew me before I was, you know me today, tomorrow.

Search me. My mind. My heart. Examine, scrutinize, test and prove me.

In all of my anxieties and thoughts that disquiet me, show me where I think wrong.

Look, consider, distinguish my ways and show me my wickedness, unrighteousness, my sorrow and my idols.

Lead me in the way everlasting for I am confident that you, Father, who began the good work of your salvation in me and sealed me with your Holy Spirit will complete what you started.

Lead me in your way everlasting. Amen.