I am so glad I had the priveledge to see the movie, War Room, with my Life Group. I have to admit, since applying Miss Clara's war room, my quality of prayer has greatly improve. I not only know who and what I am praying for, but I actual have strategic pray life that makes sense; that I can follow and easily adjust as God directs me because I can see Him in my plans more clearer. My target prayers go up on my bedroom wall. And I immediately receive scriptures from the Holy Spirit to use in my prayers.…
I couldn't agree more, sometimes I think to myself as well if I have any repressed memories that impact my personality. I never used to be so compulsive or expressive, but I think that has to do with a defense mechanism of mine. I know I have some repressed memories that have molded my personality to be more defensive at times, although I don't like that myself, I do feel it is a defense mechanism to be guarded for protection. I honestly did the same thing with the denial mechanism with my best friend during high school. I was in denial because of my friends passing just wasn't acceptable, and when people approached or confronted me, I pretended as though he was on a long vacation.…
It was a small court room, and the room was filled with all sorts of people. I think there were some that was there for court and some were there to hear someone’s sentencing. There was a banner you could see as you walked in at the front of the room that said” Show up, Be honest, and Try”. To my left of the court room there was a jury box with people in it, I thought there was a trial going on, but actually there were two people in orange and I believe the other people were counselors for their program.…
The Painful Two Hour Hospital Wait It was a lovely June day, four days prior to the due date of this writing piece, and for once I was ready to go to Gym class outside. Instead of playing with the other people, because I obviously have no sports skills, I playing with the international students (who were with the beginners). At the end of the game I got ticked in the toe which leads to where this memoir begins. My toe had been bothering me all day after that.…
There’s a little slice of Heaven in Marshall, Texas, where the sun shines through the pines and the sound of cicadas serenade you throughout your afternoon and the lake shines like a plate of polished silver in the early morning sun. When I first came to Camp Fern, I was on my own. Everyone else had known each other for at least two years, so I was the odd one out. In my cabin there was the usual sort. There was the popular one, the attention seeker, the joker, and the one you love to hate.…
The pain began slowly, pricking me with its sharp needles only while doing barre in ballet once a week. I ignored it, believing it to be normal, common discomfort that would soon go away, typical thoughts of a dancer whose entire sport is centered around “good pain”. Six months later, it had escalated to the degree that every step I took felt like an arrow to my knee. Dancing had become impossible, and it was determined that I should be taken to the orthopedist. The bland, brown and beige lobby became extraordinarily familiar as I waited two hours to be examined.…
When I attended Thorton Junior High School, I was real skinny, therefore, I felt like an outsider. I was thirteen years old and wearing a size one, whenever a big gust of wind came, it nearly knocked me down. People often teased me and called me names like Olive Oyle, Wilma, or Skinny Minny. Whenever we had gym, I was scared to show my body because it was so bony and I knew people would laugh, when they laughed, I felt like an outsider.…
As I looked around at the blank white walls surrounding me, my anxiety only grew. Why am I here? The question haunted my mind as my solid white shoes tapped softly on the monotonously grey floors. My green eyes landed back on the paper in my hand, reading the words again. Patient 7539, please report to clinical area 3 for a checkup at 6:30am.…
As a child growing up in Rhode Island, the smallest state in the Union, the idea of a vast planet brimming with civilization and culture was more like something out of a fairy tale than it was reality. So, when my father announced that we would be leaving the country to go to Scotland, the home of his and my ancestors, my world began to expand at a rapid pace. This trip could not have been timed more perfectly. The summer of 2007 marked the end of fourth grade, my first year at Saint Mary Academy Bay View.…
My first position is my house because you are relaxed and focus and my house is quiet and peacful so there's no noise and im not distracted like if i was somewhere where there is alot of noise and stuff to get me distracted like games and stuff like that thats just me personally i get distracted alot i need to be some where that's quiet to help me be on task. My second position is the library becaeuse first and foremost there is not talking in the library so it's originally quiet and that's what i like because alot of people function more when there's peace and quiet and some don't they just like the noise to do there work but i personally think there should be quiet while doing work.…
Feeling like an outsider is something I do on a daily. Ever since I could remember I had always felt like I didn’t belong. Whether that was because I was taller than most kids my age, or I was always at least two years younger than all of my classmates. I had always felt different, almost as if I was supposed to be born in another time. The need to belong is one of the fundamental needs within all humanity as we all feel the need to "fit in".…
I found the light in the interrogation room to be simultaneously too dim and annoyingly bright. The burns, scrapes, and bruises that covered me, made every move a painful one, but I wasn’t about to tell either detective that. I would put on a good face even if it killed me, which was something that had legitimate potential. “Please state your name for the record,” commanded the man on the other side of the room.…
I did one day of a medicine/surgical clinical day with Anne Hartman at Saint Luke’s Hospital in Cedar Rapids. The day began at 0800 and ended shortly after 1600. There were several differences along the way starting with the time. I teach clinicals for Iowa College of Nursing and they begin at 0645 and end at 1530. Anne had informed me that she was not a morning person and got to chose what times she did her clinicals out.…
“What happened?” my dad asks, the words dripping with skepticism. “Dad…my wrist hurts” I say sheepishly, clearly wanting to be out on the ice, not doubled over in the locker room. My dad takes one look at my wrist and his face turns white. He’s nearly speechless as he sees for the first time what I have yet to fully process. “Uhh...…
The sickness that I live with is one that some would find excessively appalling, making it impossible to talk about; so I kept it to a whisper. This sickness I thought was to embarrassing to talk about, making it impossible to seek help, left me feeling alone in the dark. This sickness ruined friendships, without me realizing it. This sickness that made getting out of bed a struggle for me. This sickness made it impossible for me to see a positive future, until the day I stopped calling myself “crazy” and began to grow from what we all call, depression.…