Tuesday, December 17, 2019

Of Shooting Stars, Birth Stories and of Knowing


I had a moment with my boy that I hope to treasure and remember always.  Tonight, I was driving home with my Jamesen, and as we turned onto our street we saw the magic and wonder of a shooting star in the night sky right in front of us.  It was undeniably real.  And amazing.  Jamesen exclaimed “That’s a shooting star!  I’ve never seen one before!”  He went on and on about having never seen one and that that was definitely a shooting star.

As I lay in bed tonight and can’t sleep I reflect on seeing my first shooting star. It was summertime and I must have been younger than 12 because my brother Doug was still living at home. He and my brothers David, Robert, and Curtis were gathering sleeping bags for a night outside on the trampoline.  That night was supposed to have meteor showers. I got my pillow and sleeping bag too and joined them. As we all laid on our backs, scanning the sky, each of my brothers took turns exclaiming and pointing to shooting stars.  I’d whip my head around to where they pointed and nothing was there.  Again and again, this went on.  I was frustrated and even distrusted their sightings.  I didn’t believe them because I hadn’t seen one.  But I also knew that they were genuinely in awe of whatever it was they were seeing. But when you haven’t seen one, you haven’t seen one. 

I tried to make my eyes see the whole sky at once.  I tried focusing on one area for long periods only to miss one in the other part of the sky.  No method seemed to be working.  I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to a still and quiet world around 2 am.  I opened my eyes to the bright night sky with the moon shining.  And right before my eyes, a big, bright star streamed, tail and all, all the way across the sky. And I knew what I had seen.  And I did not doubt that shooting stars were real, I knew it. And in such a very personal and special way.  Quietly and privately.


This moment shaped my life in many ways. I felt so very loved by my God. I felt He was aware of me and was sharing a gift with me that He knew I wanted and would be grateful for. His gift of a perfectly timed shooting star covered the entire sky as if to assure me that He wasn't going to let me miss it. Like a child being awakened by a parent on Christmas morning to see what surprises are prepared It allowed me to believe and trust in things I can’t see, yet.

This shooting star tonight has me pondering experiences from this semester in my nursing school work.  Before ever considering a nursing career I remember thinking to myself that if I was going to be a nurse I wouldn’t do labor and delivery of moms and babies.  Although it is largely a beautiful and amazing experience, I logically reasoned that I was uncomfortable with the thought of being capable of providing adequate, nurturing care to those who deliver in anguish because of the circumstances surrounding their baby such as rape, teenage pregnancy, poverty, broken homes, severe health outcomes, etc.  I just didn’t think my heart could handle that kind of pain and heartache regularly.  And so it is with this decades-old idea in my mind I started my 7th semester of nursing school and the beginning of a Mother, Child and Family nursing course.  We had a boot camp where we learned a lot about labor stages, delivery and ended with a 40-minute video of mothers birthing at various stages of labor.  Lights were down, and I sat there so very uncomfortable with it.  The sounds of pain and moaning, the dads annoyed me how they were touching their wives to comfort them.  I was uncomfortable.  As the movie ended and lights turned up a classmate and friend had wet eyes, my professor was in awe and the majority of us were uncomfortable. My professor proclaimed softly “wasn’t that wonderful” and caught me off guard.  I realized that while both of us saw the same video our feelings about it were different. Her response reflected years of service as a nurse in the field and her awe and wonder of knowing first hand of being part of these moments with women and families. But I have very few.  I respected her perspective but did not have my own to identify with.

I have thought about this many times, and considered the metaphor it is to faith in God and in His son Jesus Christ.  I love the gospel and teachings of Jesus Christ. Like my professor is with birth stories, the gospel stirs my heart and warms my soul.  I feel strengthened, comforted, protected and given peace when I worship Him with the playing of hymns on the piano or YouTube, singing, serving neighbors, family or friends, and attending church services. But many have little experience or belief in a Savior healing and comforting them. For weeks, I left my thoughts at that. And I justified that I’m just different from my professor and classmate. I didn’t feel anything but discomfort from the birth video. 

Fast forward 8 weeks later. I started my clinical rotations in the hospital and one morning I was assigned to the Labor and delivery unit.  Most of the morning my precepting nurse and I met the needs of our one, laboring patient and around lunch, the floor charge nurse sent me to another room where a baby was coming. If I wanted to see a birth I needed to hurry.  I rushed to the room and quietly entered it to find the doctor working with a mother in a lot of pain and medical staff everywhere.  She was doing this naturally. No medications.  The baby arrived and I was full of emotions and so proud of this mom.  I went to the area where nurses were caring for the baby as the new dad watched and it became crowded so I stepped back.  I turned my eyes to the mom and she was grabbing for something to hold onto but couldn’t reach the bed railing that was down. I realized no one was with her while the doctor stitched her up and she was in pain.  I walked right up to her and said “Do you want my hand?” as I slid my hand in hers.  We locked eyes for a moment and the feeling of being there for her in her moment of need was surreal.  She didn’t let go for a long time.  Not till the doctor was done.

I left that day uplifted and on a high.  It felt amazing.  What I thought I would not enjoy, what I was sure was uncomfortable for me, what I did not see myself doing has now become a defining experience in my nursing school training.  What I couldn’t understand or be comfortable with logically, had me hooked.  I loved this moment. In 2 years of clinicals, this was my favorite day! I loved this work. My plans for my career have shifted to include the possibility of being a labor and delivery nurse.  The feeling of awe and wonder at being there during any woman’s moment of need at such a profound moment would be a privilege.  

Another classmate heard my story of this day and she assured me that of course, it’s amazing.  She calls it being a “birth junkie”; referencing her time as a doula.  Which she has told me about regularly for 3 ½ years since I met her in the university bookstore buying textbooks when we started this school journey together. Just because I hadn’t experienced it yet, didn’t mean that I couldn’t be changed and have my own experience.  Much like a non-believer can become a believer.

One scripture many Christians have been taught in Sunday school since we were young is “That at the name of Jesus, every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth;”  and “that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” -Philippians 2:10-11 KJV

In deeper ways now, it makes sense to me that when Christ comes, when He shows himself to the world someday that it will be possible for this scriptural prophecy to be accomplished.  In the same way as knowing you’re seeing a shooting star when you see it for the first time.

Many of us have varying levels of faith in Jesus Christ.  Some don’t know Him or accept Him as their Savior, some aren’t sure, and some devotedly love and feel gratitude for His sacrifice.  Our experiences with ‘seeing’ Him in our lives and many more circumstances affect our beliefs.


--> With this thought in mind, my thoughts trail to what I have learned of Joseph Smith and his personal experiences with Light.  He is the first President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and I somehow understand what he was saying more profoundly tonight.  This video portrays his experience of seeing God and Jesus Christ and the events surrounding this period in his life. https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/media-library/video/2008-06-01-the-restoration?lang=eng  I keep hearing his words in my mind: “I had beheld a vision. I had actually seen a light.  And in the midst of that light, I saw two personages.  And they did, in reality, speak to me. I knew it. And I knew that God knew it.  And I could not deny it.”
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Listening to my son's exclamations at seeing a shooting star and him knowing exactly what it was, and remembering that at one time neither of us knew what it was like to see one, I thought how it took no testifying or preaching on mine or anyone’s part for him to know what it was.  He needed no witness for him to know.  And neither did I.  But we both had to wait to experience it or to know that shooting stars are real.  We both learned and knew for ourselves, independent of any other's experiences.  And so it is with most things. A logical understanding of things can be taught, processed, considered and even shape us.  But they do not always elicit a “knowing” until a personal and real experience.  And knowing changes everything.