Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

Here’s What You Can Do to Stop Human Trafficking

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Unless you’ve been under a rock, I’m sure you’ve noticed the current attention the heinous crime of human trafficking has garnered on social media. As a person who has been a supporter for years of ministries aimed to stop trafficking, one part of me is glad it’s getting its due spotlight. But on the other hand, I’m angered by the motivations for it taking center stage. I’ve seen people throw this very real issue around to match their political agenda, and the sad part is all the hype does little to help this problem if you’re not willing to personally do what it takes to make a difference. I mean, it’s easy to make a social media post about “saving the children,” but the real question is how do you save the ones who cross your path?

I’m going to share a personal story with you. Last year I was working at the hospital bedside, and I can remember this particular patient in stunning clarity. She was one of those patients you don’t want to take care of. She was rude, mean, and abusive to staff. She was one of those patients that staff may wonder why she’s even there, if she’s going to refuse care or ignore the advice of the people she came to to help her. Most staff did the understandable. They did the job they had to do, as quickly as possible, then left this woman’s room who seemed angry at the whole world.

For whatever reason, though I tend to believe it was the Holy Spirit, I decided to face the harsh music the day I took over her care. Instead of leaving her room as fast as I could, I sat down at the end of her bed. Instead of meeting her anger with indifference, I chose to meet it with compassion. Refusing her insults, refusing her silence, and refusing her attempts to push people away, I decided to try and meet her wherever she was. It seemed obvious to me that she was hurting, and I took it as a personal quest to let her know that 1) I saw her, and 2) I cared. She assumed the staff saw a worthless young woman with HIV, but I instead chose to see her as Jesus did.

I persisted in my kindness, and I drew her out slowly. I invested the time (that I didn’t actually have) to develop a relationship of trust. Her medical file stated she lived at home with her mother, but our conversation revealed the truth that she was homeless. It ended up revealing much more than that.

As I sat at the nurse’s station that afternoon I was in shock to discover that my patient was a victim of human trafficking. She wasn’t bound and gagged, on a ship to some foreign country like Hollywood had shown me, but she was a victim nonetheless. The shackles around her wrists were psychological in nature, and her voice had been silenced by repeated emotional abuse. My heart broke because this woman believed herself to be worthless. This is what her captor had driven into her mind day after day. She felt that her current life of being sold and bought for sex was the best and only existence she could hope for. She felt useless for anything else. She saw herself as too far gone, incapable of earning a living outside the life her pimp had encased her with, and though he didn’t currently stand over her threatening her life, she had been conditioned to believe her only purpose in life was to be used up until there was nothing left.

It broke my heart. She couldn’t see herself as Christ saw her. She was in bondage to the lies she had been fed most of her life, having been given to multiple men by her mother as a young girl, and it only growing worse from there. Her captor refused to give her the money for condoms, and her diagnosis of HIV was a side effect of her job. It actually allowed him even more control over her, since a diagnosis like that made her tainted goods. He still sold her, but made sure she knew that she would never survive without him.

I’ll never forget trying to keep my face expressionless when she shared, “since I’m sick now I usually just give blowjobs for $10 a pop.”

Forgive the graphic nature, but can you imagine earning at least $100 from the above, just so your boss wouldn’t beat you at the end of the day?

I made a lot of phone calls that day. I reached out to every organization I knew, and I was introduced to programs I didn’t even know existed. Before my shift ended I had helped create a safe discharge plan for this patient, a way for her to escape the dismal existence she was stuck in. The hardest part of all that was convincing her it was possible to leave, convincing her she was worth leaving that life.

I learned a lot that day from experts in the field, people who understood the terrible nature of how most human trafficking manifests itself in society. It wasn’t at all what I thought it was. It wasn’t typically a ring of rich and famous pedophiles like Facebook would have me believe, and though those kind of things existed, it wasn’t the most common way victims were made. They weren’t usually kidnapped from the arms of their parents, but rather released freely by the people they should have been able to trust the most. Sex traffickers were not obvious villains, but rather the people you saw in your everyday, never taking the time to notice.

I think what I learned the most that day is that evil is all around us. Victims are sometimes right in our path. We’re just too busy, too distracted, or too self-involved to see it. We’ll take the time to watch conspiracy videos about evil among us, and we’ll take the time to share posts on social media about the nameless victims of human trafficking. Yet, nine times out of ten, we’ll be too preoccupied to take the time and learn the name of the victims God tries to place in our path. We’ll turn a blind eye to the abuser in our family, our congregation, or our community. I think if we really wanted to combat sex trafficking we’d understand it can start in our own home. It’s the videos your husband watches late at night that feed the problem. It’s the magazines under your child’s bed, the websites visited, and the refusal to see the pain of the hurting that really keeps trafficking alive. So many of us unknowingly support the very thing we abhor.

I once read an article from a former victim of human trafficking, and her story sounded so similar to my patient’s. She recalled how many times she had been physically apart from her abuser, yet still attached to him mentally, and she recounted the large number of people who should have saved her but didn’t. The strangers, the store clerks, the healthcare workers, the neighbors, and the school teachers. God had placed so many people in her path who could have saved her, if only they could have opened their eyes to see. It makes you wonder, if people put even half the energy into everyday encounters as they put into a Facebook rant, could we make a difference?

So, in conclusion, I’m grateful that so many are finally seeing that this problem exists. I am. I only wish they could also see it right in front of their eyes. How many people interacted with the patient I mentioned before the Lord was able to help me see the situation? How many had known something was amiss, but been too busy to give it more than a passing thought that they later blamed on imagination?

If we truly want to be the change for which we champion, then we have to understand that it starts now. It starts here. It starts with every day, every interaction. Not only can we help stop human trafficking, but we can combat a multitude of problems that find their entrance into a solution through personal relationship. In other words, when we can see others, love others, and intervene for others, we can finally set about the good work that God has intended. We can actually make a difference.

A Window Into COVID Critical Care

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My eyes ached. You know that gritty, raw feeling, like you’ve been crying razor blades or something? That’s what it felt like. I made an extra effort to focus on the freeway lines that zoomed by as I drove towards my safe place. Home. That’s where I could forget my day, where I could escape, leaving the sadness and stress sitting in the seat of my car, ready to be picked up again in the morning.

I had told my coworker that afternoon that it felt like 10 pm. My eyes had been hurting then, at what surprisingly was only four o’clock. I had assumed it was because of the tears. Now that I think about it, though, it was probably just the weariness of what I had seen. Not just that day, but every day for months. It was like being witness to a horrible car crash, and being unable to extract the victims. Except the wreck never ended. You relived it every day. I realized my eyes hurt from watching that repeated carnage. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to unsee it.

There is a weight sitting heavy on the heart of healthcare right now. From a critical care point of view, it feels like the dreaded elephant on your chest. It’s this heaviness brought on by unspent grief, coupled with a frantic frustration over the things we cannot change. You see, COVID-19 has brought us something we’re not used to or comfortable with. Defeat. It’s beating us, pretty much every time.

The world, and certainly the United States, has experienced the unparalleled effects of this novel virus. We’ve all experienced the shutdown, the isolation, and the economic loss. What a large percentage of people, outside of the healthcare system, are not seeing is the wicked behavior of this disease. They don’t see the cruel nature by which it attacks, making certain that stories of survival are few and far between for those poor people who happen to fall into respiratory distress under its grip. Y’all, it just won’t let the people go.

Here it is in a nutshell. Because we’ve shut the hospital doors and won’t allow you in. Here is a window into COVID Critical Care.

Death. Over and over. It does not matter what we do, or what we don’t do. It doesn’t matter if we follow every recommendation, give every medicine, and check every single box. Nine times out of ten, if you end up on a ventilator with COVID-19, you are not coming off until your heart stops. That is why my eyes hurt.

You can see your patient turn the corner, start looking better, wean down the oxygen from 100%, finally. You can say to the spouse something you try not to say lately, like, “I’m hopeful. Things are looking better. I’m very optimistic about this.”

You can say those things one week, a few weeks into the particular ordeal, and you can want to believe it in your heart so desperately, but then you can have your hand on that same spouse the following week, praying for comfort while they cry, holding them while they weep in grief because your hope just didn’t pan out. That is why our eyes ache. You cannot unsee some things. Some pain etches itself into your retinas.

Listen, we knew what we were getting into with nursing and medicine. We knew that death and dying occur. We’ve dealt with this our entire careers, some of us for twenty or thirty years. What we were not prepared for was constant death. See, in nursing you win some and you lose some. But you win some! Do you see where I’m going? We’re used to having some good news to throw into the mix, but this pandemic hasn’t been playing by the usual rules. It has its own book, and sadly that manual is still being written. As it stands now, and since this began, the odds are not in our favor. The real Hunger Games are worse than you ever saw on TV.

We are fighting, y’all. We are doing all the things we do so well. There are many times over the years that I’ve been part in successfully reviving and continuing the life of someone who probably should have been allowed to pass on to the hereafter. In those moments I have said, “we are too good at what we do.” Well, this year has upended that statement. This year, we can’t seem to be good enough. We can fight, and we can do all the great things we normally do, but nothing can seem to alter the poor outcomes of critically ill COVID-19 patients. It. Is. Killing. Us. All of us. It is breaking our hearts, but it hasn’t stopped, so we just keep fighting.

You can watch a patient you’ve personally fought for, die every shift, every day, and it’s draining. Sometimes it’s more, sometimes it’s less. I don’t know the numbers, but I know how it feels. It sucks. Where’s some good news?!

I can count the success stories, on one hand, and I’m so very grateful for them. But they’re not enough. The bad is still outweighing the good in intensive care. Even when you do have someone get wheeled out the door, they’re not the same. The effects of this continue, and we don’t even know to what extent yet. I’m not a negative or fearful person, but gosh, that’s scary. The significant and lasting damage to lung tissue is real, and it’s crazy. We won’t even talk about the other physical and emotional tolls.

Our eyes hurt from the things we cannot unsee, from the tears we sometimes cannot stop. Our hearts hurt for the grieving families, for the pain of our patients and their loved ones. Our brains ache from trying to understand the vast variations of presentation and progression of this virus, and our minds are blown by the damage it can do. This virus is cruel, it’s uncertain, and it’s unlike anything we have seen. We have worked beyond what we believed we were capable of doing. We have carried ourselves to physical points we have never experienced before, but also emotional roller coaster rides we never anticipated. So, while the Nation at large is angry to watch football and not be made to wear masks, we’re just over here trying to survive. We’re just over here trying to make our patients survive, even as we know that statistically they will not.

A Word for the Church

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I saw a battlefield, complete with hundreds upon thousands of warriors battling it out. Like a scene from Braveheart, the mass of tangled bodies violently punched, stabbed, and speared anyone within range of their hastily swung arms. Each soldier wore specific battle garb, like armor, a specific color to designate the side for which they waged their war. As the men tore angrily at one another I realized something peculiar. They were all wearing the same colors. The soldiers fighting one another were on the same side, the same team. Across the field another army watched with glee. They laughed at the scene, understanding they didn’t need to lift a single, physical weapon. The army they wished to conquer was destroying itself.

At that moment the Lord spoke these words to me. “Sometimes it has to become broken before it can be fixed.”

I think you’ll agree that a lot has become broken over the past five months. Broken relationships, broken congregations, broken hearts. There have been broken bank balances, broken trust, and definitely broken systems. I think it’s time to start fixing.

Racism is a horrible sin against mankind, but so is pedophilia. Sadly, we have come to a place in life where we imagine we’re capable of ranking what breaks God’s heart the most, but I am of the opinion that neither of these two compare to the pain He feels over watching His children battle it out. Broken, bloodied, distracted, and confused, fighting the wrong enemy all along. The real enemy isn’t the bigot or the child molester. The real enemy is standing across the battlefield, laughing at the chaos he has created.

I recently felt led by the Holy Spirit to read the book of Haggai. You know, I couldn’t even recall if I had read it before. It’s only two chapters, you must realize, but inside that dynamic duo was a glimpse of today. Somehow, in the midst of the enemy’s confusion, we have become distracted by the walls of our own houses, and we have forgotten that we are required to keep building. In Haggai it was a temple, and today it is much the same. But rather than a physical building, we are needed for the construction of God’s kingdom.

When asked by the disciples how to pray, Jesus spoke some words we have forgotten.

Your kingdom come, your will be done. On earth as it is in heaven.

So many of us Christians long for the kingdom of Heaven, but we forget that His kingdom is being built here on earth, right now. We are the builders, yet we’re separating the materials, finding them “unworthy,” and tossing them aside for the pieces that look just like our own.

I was led to Ephesians 4 last night, and I was reminded by the Lord that the one body has many parts. Some of us will fight for racial equality, and some of us will fight for the children, both unborn and beyond. The thing is, we can fight for all those things. We can believe strongly in one injustice, while also fighting for another. The Lord positions His warriors where they will fight the best, but we have mistakenly taken up arms against one another, leaving the enemy laughing at how he is winning despite never stepping on the battlefield, except in our minds.

The kingdom of Heaven has many rooms, and we must stop trying to be the arrogant innkeeper. We cannot place a sign on the door that says only those with a mask may enter, anymore than we can throw out the ones who refuse to wear one. There is a place for us all, and this place is woven together by the common thread of the enemy we share. He is the prince of this world, but we cannot forget that our Father’s kingdom rules in the end. We need to regather the troops, guys.

The kingdom of Heaven isn’t divided by skin color, anymore than it’s divided by political party. Nowhere in the gospels does it say eternal life is dependent on how you vote, or by who you feel you must stand behind for the White House seat. I think we have forgotten that we can make our battle plans all we want, but that it is God who directs our steps. He will place who He wants as Commander in Chief, and we cannot fight an unnecessary war with one another. I think another thing we forget is that the war isn’t taking place in just one country. It spans the globe. We cannot be distracted by our own small minds or our pride.

I have been convicted, and I think we all could take to our knees in repentance for putting too much of our efforts as warriors of God pointed towards our brothers and sisters, rather than focused on Satan and his demonic army. We must be willing to listen to one another and have real discussions. We must be willing to set down pride, admit wrongdoing, and understand it’s ok to not be right about everything. God doesn’t need soldiers who are rigid against everything, yet fallible to sin in their own life. We cannot stand firm on one principle while simultaneously bending to sin of indifference in our everyday. In other words, we cannot stand against rioting, but not speak out against racism. We cannot hold firm against abortion, yet never open our hearts or pocketbooks to unwanted children outside the womb. We cannot claim homosexuality is a sin, but secretly surf the web for pornography after the family is asleep. We cannot ask people to follow us and our God of love if the words we speak don’t convey love. Gosh, we have a lot to learn, but thankfully God is willing to keep working on us. What we must do in the meantime is recognize the real enemy we fight, and stop wreaking havoc against anyone the Lord has placed in a different position than our own.

I started this post with a vision of a terrible battle, but I wasn’t finished telling you what I saw. After the initial impression of battling brothers, I realized that little by little, one by one, recognition dawned. On the faces of the soldiers you could see their eyes opening to truth, their hearts turning towards reconciliation, and their efforts combining to finally fight together. As their hearts turned towards one another the army was awarded by a power it couldn’t have fathomed before. Charged with the strength of unity they were finally open to the potential of God’s power. Like a sonic boom or a shock wave from some sort of blast, an explosion occurred within the spirits of the saints, and the pulse of power was visible as it blew outwards toward the camp of the enemy across the way.

What does all this mean? I hope that you see it means we’re in a war. We are in end times. God is positioning His saints, and we have to stop attacking our comrades if their position doesn’t look exactly like our own. We must understand the playbook of the enemy, and that he will use politics, division, and our own pride against us. He will cause us to fight one another, while he sits back laughing and watching the destruction. Y’all, there is a lot wrong with the church as a whole, but we cannot burn it down thinking that will win the real war. There is sin on the battlefield, but we cannot keep throwing our own soldiers out of our camp. We have to find that common ground, that unifying thread that is Jesus, and we must bind it around our hearts and minds.

The only way I know for us to win the war is together, but it’s not just a simple “getting along” we must do. Each heart must seek Christ, fully and first. We have to seek it before political agendas. We must seek it before injustice and personal hurt. We must seek it before platforms and specific causes. We must seek Him, and in doing so allow the Holy Spirit to speak the truth of each and every matter. Each and every one! If we focus on what we feel He is saying on one subject, we’re going to miss the big picture. We’re going to throw out the good building materials with the garbage, and this is only delaying the construction of His kingdom here on earth. You say that you long for Heaven! Well, understand that now, here on earth, that is where we must gather the pieces. Here, on earth, is where we bring together the sons and daughters to fill all the many rooms. We aren’t building a mansion so it can be empty. We are building a forever home, where I believe I recall scripture saying that the Lord is not willing for anyone to perish, but desires to give everyone a room, that He desires all to have everlasting life. That’s gonna be a big place, so let’s start building now.

Some people don’t want to share their Father’s home. They think that some don’t deserve to be there like them. But I reckon those are the ones who might end up being told to depart, that He never knew them. I hope not. I hope we can come together before it’s too late, and that we can come together against the real enemy. Once we do that, we can get busy building, rather than being busy fighting. Like I said, the kingdom is going to be epic, and I for one am willing to put in the work now. Will you join me in the building?

The Fall of Conservative Christianity

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First off, my heart is breaking right now. I’m not angry. I mean, I have been. I think we’ve all had our moments this year. With the stress of a pandemic, whether it’s dealing with it hands on, like me as a nurse, or the side effects of the virus, like financial loss or a failing small business, it’s been weighing on us all. I’ve been described as a frontline worker since March, but aren’t we all frontline workers in one way or another? The difficulties of this year haven’t missed a one of us. That inherent stress is what I’ve been blaming public response on for the past couple of months. When someone acts like a jerk, you try and remind yourself how kind they normally are. You know, before the world fell to hell in a hand basket (minus the basket).

So, for months I’ve watched the transformation of people on social media. I initially blamed it on 2020 stress, but then I started to wonder.

I asked myself, “is this year just bringing out true colors?”

As a Christian writer I get a lot of friend requests from strangers on social media. They see my words, whether from a Facebook friend, my own website, or even other Christian sites that share my work, and they shoot me a request or a follow. I’m used to that. I usually hit their profile, ensuring they’re not a fake account or something bizarre, and unless I get a weird feeling in my gut, I’ll usually accept. But last week I had a situation that gave me pause. And when I say pause, I mean it broke my heart. I literally felt like I might weep for the way our Nation is going. The thing is, I got a request from a stranger, per usual, but when I went over to the profile I found the introductory information made me wince.

Conservative Christian

It said other stuff too. I can’t recall the exact descriptive terms. It was probably something like mother, wife, friend of animals or something. The point is that only two words made me stop and consider if I wanted this person having access to my life.

Conservative and Christian. It wasn’t the words separately, mind you, but the combination that scared me. Before this year I had never responded this way, but the magnifying glass applied by a pandemic and a racial injustice awakening had changed things for me. That. Broke. My. Heart.

I am a Christian. I am a Conservative. I am a Republican. These are all titles I have used and proclaimed when asked for as long as I can remember, but that was before this year happened. Something has changed.

Starting around the end of April (yes, after the stress of isolation), I began to see those true colors I mentioned. I saw friends (like, actual people I knew) on social media saying the most awful things. These were people who used the title, Christian, but the words they were spewing were the most un-Christ-like things ever. I saw everything from, “only nasty people with poor hygiene in poor neighborhoods get COVID-19,” to “this is God’s punishment for homosexuality.” I could have filled a notebook with the horrible things that came from the mouths of Bible-believing folks, but at the time I just tried to push it away from my mind.

Next came George Floyd. Y’all know what I’m talking about. True colors if ever there was such a thing. I’m telling you, you could spot a bigot from a mile away after that happened. My heart hurt, though, because I watched as “good” people, Christian friends I had always respected shared heinous memes and heartless words. I couldn’t believe my eyes or ears, and I watched the great divide begin.

A segment of the population emerged that wanted to embrace the hurting with love. It made my heart proud to see so many join spiritual hands to lift up the fallen and broken. Slowly, though, the snakes emerged. People intent on coming up with reasons why they couldn’t love, couldn’t speak love, show love, or be love. Excuses emerged covered in religious rhetoric, and my heart broke.

Supporting a marginalized people was equated with Marxism, and I think that’s when I first noticed it. A large majority of my Christian friends shared the same words. No, I don’t mean like a similar sentiment. I mean they shared the exact same words, y’all. It was as if everyone had copied off the same kid in class when cheating on a test. Everyone turned in the same plagiarized paper. As I sought truth my Christian friends shared with me the same videos, speaking the same words, and deriving from the same websites. Conservative Christian, Right-leaning, Red State, Republican websites. It turns out it was repetitive for a reason. Everyone was drinking the same kool-aid, and everyone was gobbling up the same ideas like they were Gospel truth. My thing was, what about the real Gospels?! This stuff didn’t sound anything like Jesus.

Look, this isn’t some pride thing, but just a little background. I read my Bible everyday. If I’m off work (four days a week, typically) I will read my Bible, pray, and seek the Lord for hours. That’s just my life. My husband does the same thing. It makes us happy. It gives us peace. The other thing it does? It gives us the perspective of Christ. When you read His words enough times, it kinda sticks. It seriously becomes who you are. I had been devoting serious time (like, beyond reading a devotion or two in the morning or just church on Sunday) to extensive Bible study and listening to the Holy Spirit for a few years. It. Changed. My. Life. For the better, I might add. The problem for me was a lot of what I was seeing from these articles shared from Conservative Christian friends did not coincide with the words from the Bible. I mean, it quoted scripture and such, but it also bent it to suit its need. That didn’t settle well with me.

And so began my turmoil. I struggled. So many people I loved, friends from years’ past, they were not on the same page. I wondered if I was the problem. I dug deeper, prayed more, sought Godly counsel. Everything came back the same. Conservative Christianity had changed. Somewhere along the way it had become about politics foremost, and everything else second. My heart broke. Again.

I felt like a light had come on. Suddenly I could see the hate veiled under the title Christian. I could understand why so many people had left the church. I continued to watch hate spew from the mouths of “Christians” online, but then I understood why. It wasn’t Christ they were serving anymore. I think they thought they were, still think they are, but in reality they have lifted up an idol much higher than Jesus. My heart breaks.

I’m trying to figure out when Christianity began to equal Republican Party? I can remember during the election in 2016, Conservative Christians banded together. We voted for life. We chose the candidate who supported a pro-life stance. That’s what you were/are supposed to do as a Christian. Being pro-life, I had no problem getting behind this idea. The problem for me started shortly thereafter.

You are worshipping politics over Christ if you can support politicians who carry zero fruits of the spirit, but agree to wear the red tie. If you can turn the other way when a politician speaks hate, vulgarity, and divisive language, but promote them holding up a Bible, you’re a hypocrite. I couldn’t do it anymore. I was still a Conservative Christian, but I couldn’t serve a political party only. I had to serve my fellow man.

If you blindly accept only “news” from right-leaning websites then you serve politics over Jesus. If you will believe every word from a documented liar’s mouth, but not listen to friends with a differing opinion, you serve a political party over Christianity. If you can respond in hate before love when someone disagrees with you, you are beginning to model the behavior of a president over the behavior of our Savior. These are hard facts. If you are more inclined to memorize and share the words from the political site of your choice than read, listen, think about, and live out the words in scripture, you have placed Conservative Christianity on a pedestal above Christ. My heart breaks.

When you believe a stranger on a viral video more than a personal friend, I would suggest you ask yourself why. Are politics clouding your vision? Are you serving the Republican Party more than the hurting people in your own neighborhood? Are you repeating, believing, and walking out a belief system instilled by politics and the people around you, or are you trying to follow the words of Jesus? My heart breaks.

And that’s the jest of it. My heart is breaking. It’s breaking for a people who are serving the wrong master. We cannot pick a handful of big issues and allow that to be our compass for good. We cannot celebrate pro-life while simultaneously demeaning immigrants and minorities. We cannot stand firmly on what the Bible states is sin, but then sin towards others. We cannot serve a God who is love, yet not love.

1 Corinthians 13: 1-7 If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. 4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Do you know what love does not do. It doesn’t serve earthly masters. It doesn’t place a political party, president, and those particular agendas above fellow man. Love also understands the battle we face, not one of flesh and blood, but one of principalities and powers of darkness. Love knows the real enemy is Satan and his demonic army, not Democrats or the infamous Left. Love hates sin, but it doesn’t hate mankind. God is love, and we must begin to serve love and in love rather than the ideas of man and this world. Politics have become a stronghold, a chain around the necks of good people, and this year alone has shown the deception and clouded vision it can place over children of God.

Conservative Christians are good people, friends I love, and it’s even a title I go by, but it is not whom I am. It isn’t who any of us are. As a Christian you are a child of God the Father, and that should be the only label you allow this world to put upon you and allow to shape your actions. Let all that you do be done in love. We are the church, and we must start acting like it before it’s too late.

To the Moms in the Midst of a Pandemic

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To All My Mom Friends,

You are doing great! Do you hear me? Great. Cut yourself some slack. None of the parenting books or websites ever prepared us for what we would face as mothers and fathers in 2020.

As a nurse serving on the frontlines of the COVID-19 pandemic, in a hard hit area, I’ve gotten a lot of messages from fellow mothers with questions and concerns. They always start with, “I’m sorry, I know you’re busy,” or “I’m sorry, I know you probably get a lot of these messages.”

First off, no apologies allowed. I’m honored to be asked, and the fact that you’re seeking and asking questions means you’re a phenomenal parent. Don’t feel guilty for being a conscientious mother who cares. You should be applauded.

Mothering is hard. It’s hard when they’re growing in your belly and you can’t see if they’re ok. It’s hard when they’re newborns and wake you up every two hours, so small, perfect, and incredibly needy. It’s hard when they’re older, craving independence, yet still needing your guidance. It’s hard whether you work full time or you stay home full time, as I’ve done both. The point is, it’s hard all the time, but I don’t think the worst of sleepless nights or the grumpiest of preteen moods could prepare us for the season we are in right now. It’s unprecedented. It’s unprecedented for healthcare, government, and the school system. It’s unprecedented for us.

As a mother we are responsible for the well-being, be it physical, mental, or emotional, of our offspring. That’s a challenge on any given day, but factor in a novel virus, well, that makes it an emotional rollercoaster. This pandemic has made us worry about our own health, the health of our aging parents, and the health of our checking accounts. Balance on top of that the worries inherent in motherhood, and you’re like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Where is Super Man to straighten that up?! Extra points for the middle aged moms who get the reference.

My point is, who wouldn’t question themselves during this time in our country? I mean, does anyone really know all the facts, the whole story, and all the legit answers?! But who questions themselves the most? Moms, of course. We not only want to parent the kiddos. We want to knock it out of the park. We want to not screw them up for life. And definitely not have them infected by a virus that we still don’t really understand.

Yesterday I took my seven year old and nine year old to the grocery store. It’s the first time they’ve been since March. I cleaned the shopping cart and put them inside it with little masks and instructions not to touch anything! I couldn’t keep them locked away forever, but I could be wise.

I knew some people would judge me for taking them out in public when I didn’t have to.

I knew other people would judge me for putting masks on them. They would say I was living in fear, but that wasn’t the case at all. I was living as a mom, in the middle of a pandemic, the best way I knew how.

As a nurse mom, working at the hospital bedside, I understood the seriousness of this virus, and that is why other moms asked me for advice. At the end of the day, though, I realized we’re all the same. I may have seen tragedy related to this virus that I can’t forget, and that tragedy affects my parenting decisions, but in the end we are all doing the best we can in an uncertain, ever-changing situation. Here are some tips I’ve tried to adopt and pass along. They are kingdom minded thought processes that guide my actions.

First, drop the mom guilt. Don’t feel too bad for your child. This is something you’re going through as well. At least my daughters don’t have to keep people alive. Lol. I’m just saying, it’s ok if you don’t get this right, because who really knows what that is. Feel like you overreacted about something? It’s cool. Just start fresh tomorrow. His mercies are new every morning.

Two, understand this is just a season. This isn’t forever. This sucks, but we will get through it. There will always be next summer. There will be another dance recital, ballgame, or birthday party. If it makes you feel more at peace to be the “mean mom” then be the best mean mom on the block. Say no. They will live.

Next, let’s talk about the things they legit are missing. Graduation was a big one for some of my friends. Prom. Senior year events. Like I said before, this really sucks, but it is a season. This whole existence in these failing, human bodies here on earth is a season. We are here today and gone tomorrow. So when we stand before Jesus can we be content with our actions? Did we carry ourselves in a kind, caring manner? Did we model for our children compassion, teaching them to care more for the health of others than themselves? Did we place too much importance on worldly, temporal things, or did we value relationships and actions of love?

In a world where personal freedom ranks higher in our home than compassionate servanthood to our fellow man, we might need to re-evaluate our perspective. We want to be more concerned about the state of our children’s souls, the souls of their friends, than we are the perfect pictures of an event they won’t remember in the long run. Let’s build their spirits, rather than their resumes. Told you this would be kingdom-minded content.

I think we’re in a fluid situation. Heck, I think we’re in end times. I think we have to get to a place where we can take things one day at a time. The Lord told me recently that this stuff going on in our world is too heavy. We can’t carry the weight of tomorrows, just the weight of today. We have to daily seek the Lord for what is right on that given day.

Do you feel comfortable taking them to a busy store? Great. You do what feels comfortable for your family. Just be wise. Be humble. Be kind. Be selfless.

Do you feel like public school isn’t safe right now? You’re not alone. Welcome to homeschooling. You can do this!

Do you worry about their socialization? It’s ok. I worry about my own. I miss talking to strangers and showing them the love of Jesus. This is just a season. Children are resilient, and we will all get through this.

Are you overly worried? Hang in there, my friend. I would encourage you not to trust in horses and chariots, but trust in the Lord who saves. Let Him place a hedge of protection around your family.

Are you not concerned at all, and you feel like this thing has been blown way out of proportion? That’s okay, too. No one said we must always agree. Just please understand if my family is hesitant to get out and run through the games at Chuck E. Cheese with y’all right now. We’re still wiping everything down with Lysol and washing our hands. We’re both just moms trying to make our way through a crazy world. I pray we can hang out when all this ends.

Here’s the thing. No one likes 2020, but we still have a ways to go. Let’s cut each other some slack. Let’s cut ourselves some slack. Let’s cut our kids some slack. Life is too short to sweat the small stuff, the big stuff, or even the unprecedented stuff. Let’s just do the best we can for each day and let God sort out the rest.

Praying for us all,

A fellow mom doing the best she can

What You Need to Know if You’re Thinking of Homeschooling

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I recently encountered a nice, little family at the community pool. Despite our efforts to social distance, the cute girl had walked up to my daughters asking, “would you guys like to play with me?”

Despite living in a COVID hotspot, and regardless of the growing number of cases I saw at the hospital bedside, I felt a peace about interacting with this family. My eldest had looked at me questioningly, and I had nodded my approval.

I had gotten in the water to talk with the mother, even though I was digging my latest novel a lot, led by the Holy Spirit to talk with her. We ended up having a wonderful conversation about her desire to homeschool this year, and she gushed at how I had calmed her anxieties on the issue. Realizing that many moms out there now face the same dilemma, I thought I would share with you what I had with her. It’s really the biggest thing you need to know to homeschool effectively.

No, it’s not which curriculum to use, although we did discuss that. In all honesty, there are so many to choose from, and that fact alone only feeds the anxiety. See, that’s the biggest hurdle you will likely face in homeschooling is the anxiety of doing it well. As women, especially, we have a desire to give our children the best we absolutely can. So, when faced with teaching your children, most women will not feel qualified for the task.

I can remember teaching my first child to read. She just wasn’t catching on. I was certain it had little to do with her and everything to do with me. She didn’t listen to me. I expected too much. I wasn’t a teacher; I was a nurse. Many days ended with me feeling I had failed miserably. My heart wanted to teach her at home, but I wasn’t sure if I was giving her exactly what she needed the most.

After a few years, a few children, trial and error, and especially the voice of God, I finally understood that I was making it way harder than it needed to be. The fact was, my eldest reads like a champ now. One day a flip switched and she just knew how. I had to understand that every child learns differently, and it’s ok to learn right along with them. I mean, God had certainly taught me a lot about myself and parenting as a homeschooling mom.

I know the world is very uncertain right now. I know a lot of parents will question if the public school classroom is where your child/children need to be. Sadly, I cannot answer this question for you. It is a decision you must come to. But what I don’t want is for you to desire homeschooling yet allow fear to keep you from it. The thing is, if you can raise a child, you can homeschool a child. If you can love a child, you can homeschool a child. That’s really all it takes.

Don’t be negatively impacted by the forced homeschooling you experienced in April. Homeschooling of your own design is nothing like that. Homeschooling is mostly just parenting, with some concrete lessons thrown in the mix. Think of when your inquisitive child asks a question, you search for the answer together, and then you both know. Homeschooling is kinda like that. If you can follow written directions, you can homeschool. Even if reading directions isn’t your thing, you’ll still do fine. My husband homeschools without a hitch. Maybe you’ll catch the joke. Wink, wink.

The thing is, grades are not the most important thing in this world. Education, while important, isn’t even the biggest thing you should desire for your child in this world. To raise wonderful human beings you need a mix of love and time. The rest comes together after that.

Never be afraid to homeschool or feel like you don’t have what it takes. I learned that none of us have what it takes if we try to teach our children like we assume we should. Homeschooling isn’t public schooling, and it will never look like it either. Imagine a 2-4 hour day instead of 8. Imagine taking a day off last minute if that’s what the student needs, and not having to worry about making work up to catch some invisible finish line. Imagine learning being fun. Imagine the classroom outside, or in pajamas. Imagine learning on a track that is tailored to your child’s interest, not just to ensure a certain test score. Imagine spending quality time with your child, rather than the majority of your time apart. Think about zero homework and only doing reading or science fair projects if the fancy strikes you.

You can homeschool. That’s mainly what I want you to know. Don’t not do it because you worry you can’t. Depending on the pace of your child, you can complete the needed work 3-4 days a week, in just a few hours. Homeschooling doesn’t mean you have to keep public school hours.

If your worry is finances, such as being home from work to teach, realize that it’s always easier than our worst fears. Whether you make the decision to downsize, share the responsibility with the other parent (if that’s an option), or tailor the school day around your work schedule, I would encourage you that homeschooling is doable. I once had a friend who taught her child every evening after a full workday, and while that may not be the ideal option for you, it’s just to point out that there’s always a way.

So, in conclusion, what’s the thing you need to know if you’re thinking of homeschooling? It’s that you can. You can do it. I told my new friend by the pool, kids are so resilient and flexible. They catch on quickly, they adapt, they overcome. It’s the limits we place on ourselves as parents that make it a problem.

Are We Nineveh?

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Are we Nineveh? This is the question that popped into my head this morning as I sat quietly before the Lord sipping my coffee. I opened my Bible to the book of Jonah, and as suspected I felt the Holy Spirit reveal many answers to the question that had been poised in my mind. In fact, many more answers than I anticipated.

Everyone remembers the story of Nineveh, Jonah, and of course, the whale. I think during unprecedented times in life, such as we’ve been seeing in 2020, it’s only natural to figure God must be involved. Of course, He’s always involved in our lives, but it’s the things that shake us that cause most people to take notice of His hand. When the going gets tough, knees get to bending, and even I have been saying since early March that I believe God is doing something big in our country right now. This morning I woke from my dreams, unsure what they had been, but very strongly hearing the words “great awakening” echoing through my mind.

If we consider the town of Nineveh we immediately remember its wickedness. I mean, even Jonah says of the place, “those who cling to worthless idols turn from God’s love for them.”

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist, or even a terribly convincing storm at sea to tell us that our country clings to worthless idols. We worship celebrities, trust in stock options and account balances, and spend more time on reality television consumption than soaking in scripture. Of course, we are Nineveh, right?! One look at cable television, the state of marriage and family, or even how many hours of overtime we pull a week instead of quality time spent with those we love will tell the tale. Our country has to be Nineveh! And God has been trying to capture the attention this year of a Nation gone bad.

As I read the book of Jonah, though, I found words that didn’t quite gel with my assumptions. Certain that the Christian Church was the role of Jonah, the messenger sent to set a country afire with the truth of God’s mighty hand of vengeance, I made my way through the familiar tale. Understanding that the whale was God’s Grace for the church that had too long remained silent, and that like how God had rescued the fleeing man in the belly of a fish, He could carry us believers through the storms of this year. We had only to stand firm for truth, justice, and the sovereignty of the Heavenly Father we served. Yes, we could deliver the message of God to an evil Nineveh; I was sure of it. Our country was on the brink of destruction. It wasn’t the first whisper of end times.

But then came the part that upended my assumptions. When Jonah came in hard and fast with his word from the Lord it didn’t go as I would think. The sinning people didn’t throw him out of the gate with a busted nose and bruised ego. They didn’t even laugh. They didn’t come up with reasons why this weird man, smelling strangely of whale innards, must be off his rocker, or perhaps on a secret mission from a crooked government. They didn’t come up with a hundred conspiracy theories for why Jonah would falsify this message, or change the subject to how the fish that brought him in was also carrying illegal citizens in its belly. The people of Nineveh weren’t worried Jonah had an ulterior motive to take their weapons (cause he was from an enemy city, after all), or that being from another region, he simply wished to push his beliefs onto them. No one said, “hey, Jonah. Why are you coming here to us in Nineveh? What about the people of Mosul? They are much more wicked! Don’t the lives of Mosul citizens matter?”

The people of Nineveh did none of those things. Instead they began fasting and putting on sackcloth. They repented for their wrongdoing, and they sought to change their ways so the God of truth would have mercy on them. In fact, their King set the perfect example. He put forth orders for fasting and commanded all his kingdom to serve the One true God, to seek repentance, and to hopefully find favor in His eyes, preventing the fall of their city. I realized at this point there was no way we were Nineveh. The Lord had been trying to get our attention since the beginning of the year. He had sent plenty of messages, in the forms of pandemic and civil unrest, and we had scoffed at them all. We had continued to serve our idols in the forms of politics and personal rights. We had turned from God’s love in favor of fights over flags and fantastic distractions from the enemy in all its YouTube glory. Barely a one put on even a bit of sackcloth at all.

In the end of the book of Jonah we find an abrupt conclusion with a very angry Jonah. The Lord, in His boundless mercy, has given grace to Nineveh. He has decided to not destroy them, and we find Jonah raving mad about it. Here we have Nineveh (a city of sinners) and we have a righteous Jonah. I mean, sure he tried to shirk his duty initially, but being in the belly of a whale for three days has to count for something. Jonah cannot believe that God made him come all the way out here for people nothing like him, and when it’s all over they get the same love Jonah himself does. He’s so beside himself he decides to take a nap, under a tree that God has provided. He likes the tree. But to prove a point the Lord takes it away. Jonah awakens with his anger about the dead tree, but God sets him straight. The end.

I did say abrupt, right? I think it’s because God’s word should be the final one on any matter. At the end we find Jonah mad at other children of God getting more favor than he thinks they deserve, and even angry about something as pointless as a shade tree. But the Lord is quick to remind Jonah what is important at this moment. Loving His people (even the sinners of Nineveh). God’s love is truly boundless. We aren’t left knowing if Jonah got God’s point, and I think that may be where we stand as a country now.

We are Jonah. We’re angry at all the wrong things, forgetting that the grace and love our Father models is what is most important. Our country may indeed be like a Nineveh of sorts, turning towards all kinds of idols and false teachings, but I could only hope and pray that we all could be like Nineveh in our repentance. Yet instead of falling on our knees humbly seeking God’s forgiveness, we are ignoring the messages He is sending. Rather than being a Nineveh with ears to hear, we are a Jonah, quick to run away from God’s will, quick to become angry at little things we consider personal affronts, and quick to judge everyone and everything under God except our own shortcomings.

Are we Nineveh? One can only hope. One can only pray that our king and our people (all our people) will humble themselves before God. Perhaps if we can lay down our perceived anger and take our focus off the vines/shade tree that doesn’t matter in a kingdom (of Heaven) sense, then God will spare our land. One can only hope.

Confessions of a Conservative Christian

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As I watched the rain come down in long, wet sheets I felt the Spirit of the Lord. He was in the cool wind that blew rivers of rain down the sidewalk and in the laughter of my nine year old as she laughed, jumping through puddles gleefully. He was everywhere, but mostly He was in my heart, whispering His desire to pour down His rain. As I watched the summer storm blow through my neighborhood, I knew this was what we needed most. A washing, a refreshing, a cleansing, to take away all the things we cling to, all the things not of Jesus, and to bring us back to His heart.

His heart. That is what had come to me earlier. As I drove and prayed the word “heartbeat” came to mind. Don’t laugh, but for some reason I thought of that scene from the movie with Patrick Swayze, Dirty Dancing, where he is trying to teach the clumsy Francis Houseman how to find her rhythm. He places his hand over hers, on his heart, and he says “lubdub, lubdub,” showing her that moving through dance steps is like feeling the beat through your whole body. I think his words were, “it’s a feeling,” and I understood God was wanting us to get His feeling for the world.

I felt like the Lord was telling me that we needed to get in sync with His heartbeat, and until we could do that, we couldn’t move in the right direction. The Word says we’re one body, but the fact is a body has a head. Unless we’re following the leader it doesn’t work. If one foot wants to go right, and the other foot wants to go left, you don’t end up actually going anywhere.

Naturally this thought led to political parties. I’ve heard a lot of that going on lately. People being accused of leaning one direction too far, and it made me wonder if we couldn’t just go straight, following the true compass for our direction. I have always considered myself a Republican, a Conservative Christian, but society had left me lately feeling like a vagabond, like a wanderer, a sojourner searching for my way home. The thing I was discovering was that perhaps the place I had always felt so comfortable wasn’t my home anymore. Perhaps the Lord was leading me to His home.

Democrat and Liberal had always been like dirty words where I came from, and I certainly couldn’t bend on my moral views. Some things the left stood for I couldn’t stand with, but many ways the right was acting didn’t settle right with my spirit. To me, we all had it jacked up, and we had gotten so busy building our own agendas, we forgot the cornerstone that had been laid down. God was calling us back to that foundation, that heartbeat, that place of love we had wandered away from.

Over the past couple of months I had seen more bickering, more disagreement, and more division than ever before. It’s like the country had two sides, you had to pick which camp you wanted to be a part of, but sadly neither seemed to be a place I’d want to lay my head down at night. I certainly wouldn’t sleep peacefully being a part of either. Then I started to notice other lost children running around in the wilderness in between. Good people, with good hearts, who couldn’t find there place in what the world had become. God was opening the eyes of His children, and once open many of us couldn’t believe what we were seeing. Had we always been blind to how off track we had gotten?

The more I’ve fallen in love with scripture over the past few years, the more I consume the truth therein, the more I see what Jesus wants for His church. One body, unified. His Spirit, in us. Us in Him, seated together with the Father in Heavenly places. Not just after we die, but now, while we wait for His return. We have been commissioned to draw all people to His table, but we forgot that along the way. Instead we decided to throw our own dinner party.

We’ve stopping listening to God’s word and applying it to our lives. We separated church and state, yet stand on our religion to throw large stones at those who are different than us. We have built idols out of our political party, and we’ve covered our home and families with banners made of cloth, rather than banners of His protection and love. We have thrown down the greatest commandment, in favor of cherry-picking the ones that meet our agenda. We have made our buildings and our denominations our house of worship. We have forgotten the temple is us, and the work of Jesus starts in our hearts. Like the Pharisees we have become more consumed with what goes into a man, and turned a blind eye to what comes out. We’re ok with leaders who speak hatred, because they give us better employment rates. We’re ok with leaders who don’t emulate the love of Jesus, because that only matters when we need His love to apply to us. We want the favor of God. We even say we want our country built on that same God in which we trust, yet we close that country’s doors to anyone we deem unworthy of entry. We shout for threat of someone taking our religious freedom, yet we spit in the face of Christianity when we treat our fellow man with hatred, inequality, bigotry, and rage. It’s as if religion has become our God, not the actual Savior who redeemed us.

Gosh, there are so many examples of current policy that somehow go against the teachings of Jesus, and while I feel like it’s as plain as the nose on my face, for others the veil of deception is heavy. If we hold the title of Christian then we are good. If our leaders hold the title of Christian, we/they are good. We can check that box on our ticket to Heaven, yet God is asking more of us. We can no longer be the church just in name. God is calling us to be the church in our actions. He is calling us to follow the beat of His heart, not the beat of our own drum. If our politics are beating out of sync with the lubdub of His love, then I believe we are entering a season where He is calling us to a new way.

What if the things we have always known, the sides we have always taken, and the direction we have always stepped needs a revamp. Instead of going to the left, or going to the right, the Lord is saying, “come this way. Follow me.” That is what we have forgotten. How to follow the way of Jesus. It’s right there in red print, but we miss it all the time. Instead of doing things the way we’ve always done, we listen for His heartbeat for our steps. We follow His directions, His example, and we stop supporting anything that doesn’t measure up to that.

I think one hindrance to following the Jesus beat is that it requires us to admit we’ve been doing things wrong. It requires us to humbly confess our wrongdoing and mistakes. It often means doing an about-face and taking another way. It means letting go of our pride in favor of His truth, truth that’s not always easy to swallow because it’s so different from what the world feeds us. But guys, the systems of this world are broken. We can’t keep expecting them to work. It’s time to develop new systems, systems built on Jesus, His heart, His way, His truth.

The systems of this world are like a stain that clings to our Spirit. This is why the enemy can so easily deceive those of us under the spell of our beloved worldly systems. But I believe we are in a rainy season. I believe storms have been building, brewing, and the Heavens are going to pour forth a cleansing rain. Eyes are opening, ears are hearing, and hearts are breaking for truth. Gifts are being poured out on God’s people, and He is calling forth those who follow Him to speak what He is saying. He is calling us to be the new church, one body that doesn’t try to go in opposite directions, but that stays centered on the heartbeat of His love and grace.

Are you tired of the way the world has been going? Me too. I believe God is saying it’s time for things to change. It’s time to do things differently. I don’t know all the answers of how this will work, but I believe as we listen to His heartbeat for people we will gain wisdom for next steps. I’m not naive. I understand the country is run on more than love, but I do strongly believe that should remain the foundation and the filter through which we make our decisions. Join me in prayer as I pray for rain, as I pray for our Nation to get the feeling of His heart, and that we may begin to walk in step, as one, in Spirit and truth, towards the future the Lord has for His church.

As I finished up this post, my husband called me outside to see the large rainbow that covered us. It was God’s covenant, not to destroy us, His promise for our future. If ever there has been a time we need that promise, I believe it is now. But first comes the rain.

The Tide is Coming In

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The Lord has been speaking the same message to me since the beginning of July, adding a bit more to it each day.

Initially I saw a huge mountain. Next I saw waves crashing into its base. They were large, violent waves, and I realized they were eroding pieces of the mountain away bit by bit.

I thought of the verse about faith, how with it we could ask a mountain to jump into the sea, and I heard the Lord say, “sometimes I move mountains little by little.”

The second day I saw just the waves, churning, building momentum, getting larger. I knew they were working their way towards something huge.

I asked the Lord, “what do the waves represent?”

“My Spirit,” He answered.

I asked the Lord, “what about the mountain?”

“The mountain,” He answered, “is the spirit of deception.”

“Well, then, where are we?” I asked.

He replied, “under the mountain.”

I keep coming back to this same word. I guess because I’ve been so busy at work, that I didn’t have time to put it down on paper, and God wanted to make sure I didn’t let this one pass by. I prayed in the Spirit again this morning, for the world at large, and I understood as I prayed that mountains are made out of hard rock. It takes time and repeated hits of the breakers to take down what religion has built.

I prayed that as the rocks of deception fell away into the sea, that God’s people could stand firm on the shore. I understood that many would be washed away with the tide because their system of belief was on the mountain of deception rather than the Spirit of Truth that had arrived to disassemble things/lies that had been too long standing.

I still believe God is moving in this season. I believe the tide is coming in. The Truth of God is tearing away deception. The thing about deception, this trickery of Satan, is that it looks good from the outside. It appears strong, colossal, favored even. It appears to tower over the land, standing tall and firm, but I think that the Spirit of Truth has been chipping away (slowly to our earthly minds) at this false idol. And I believe now that the waves are building, the tide is rising, and the true power of God is breaking down what is left.

The only question is where we will stand as believers? Will we cling to the traditions of the mountain, that so easily crumbles, or will we stand firm on the shore, as the Holy Spirit washes over us? I believe the Spirit will wash away deception and leave us standing, but only if that’s what we desire. Some will wash away into the sea, clinging to their piece of rock, never even understanding its pulling them under, until it’s too late and they drown.

The Side Effects Nurses Are Having From COVID-19

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I fell asleep the other night feeling so beaten down and defeated. I had tried to scroll mindlessly through my Facebook newsfeed before bed as I used to do to decompress after a long, thirteen hour shift at the critical care bedside, but it had only succeeded in making me more upset. I wasn’t even mad about the ridiculous post I had seen shared by a friend claiming coronavirus was a “Democratic hoax.” It would have made me mad back in April, when I knew this thing I fought was really real, but at this point, as numbers climbed even faster than I had imagined they would, I was just tired. I had erased the very true comments I had written on the aforementioned post, and I had fallen asleep knowing that was just one more thing I had no control over.

I had zero control over the public’s perception of this virus, and even though I had intimate details of what Covid was really like, it didn’t matter. I could change opinions about this about as much as I could about mushrooms being gross. The fact was a lot of people really liked mushrooms, and I had zero chance of making any of those folks agree with me that they were slippery and weird. Touché. I guess what ground my gears was having an appetite for fungi was a matter of preference, but in my book COVID-19 was as sure as the button nose on my masked face. For me, standing in the muck of this mess, it was not debatable.

And so I drifted asleep feeling bummed that public perception was just one more thing I couldn’t control. This concern toppled over the crown of a hundred other uncontrollable factors I held as a nurse during a pandemic. My healthcare peers and I faced a novel virus, new to us all, and we swam through the treacherous waters together. Initially, much fanfare and support had followed the medical community as we stood bravely against this foe. But now? Not so much. Nurses were no longer the darlings of the working world. We were lumped in with all the other exaggerators, seemingly wringing our hands for a bug that experts on social media described as “basically the flu.” I mean, you can’t applaud someone who combats a fake virus.

The thing was/is, I didn’t need applause. But I did desire someone to take our words for it. Instead it seemed a large part of public opinion favored the advice of YouTubers or folks with one-lettered names like ‘Q.’ I couldn’t tell if people were so scared they convinced themselves it was fake, so distracted by the conspiracy theories that they truly believed it was all a political ploy, or so dense that they didn’t care. After all, I had even seen some people in nonclinical healthcare suggest we all go out and catch it.

Just the day prior I had heard such an idea of herd immunity, and while I understood the general premise and points, I could only reply, “I still can’t figure out what makes you the type of person who this affects like a mild case of the flu versus the people whose lungs are attacked and die. Until they figure that out, I don’t want to roll the dice with my family.”

See, that’s the burden bedside nursing carries. The physicians, respiratory therapists, and nurse aids in the trenches too. We all see what it can and does do to a person. Young, old, healthy, sick. Doesn’t matter. It will kill anybody it so desires. We wish we could end this crap already too, but we’re too personally involved with corona to play roulette.

I see people protesting being required to wear a mask in public places. Meanwhile, I’m triple checking the seal on my respirator to make sure I don’t take this virus home to my family. I see people griping about wearing it for a thirty minute shopping trip. Meanwhile I fall asleep with my nose still feeling numb from the pressure of a mask for thirteen hours straight.

The next morning when I arrived at work, all prayed up, and mostly rested up, almost immediately someone asked me what was wrong. You see, I’m the singing nurse, the smiling nurse, the uplifting one who always lightens dark moods. So when I’m not exuding those things, it’s noticeable. After a second person asked, I realized I was suffering from the side effects of a pandemic. No, I wasn’t sick with a virus, but I was sick with the emotional, physical, and mental toil of the virus. You can only exist in so much uncertainty, sickness, and sadness before you succumb.

I thought of the patient who breathlessly called family to say quickly, “well, they’re putting me to sleep for a while. Talk to you soon.”

The memory left my heart hurting, and I recalled how at the time my eyes had met those of a coworker, both of us hoping that was true, but knowing that statistically and according to gut feeling, the patient likely would not wake up again. And that’s the biggest battle we face. That was what kept us awake at night. That’s what might create future PTSD for many, and it’s what made my spirit feel so heavy since this had begun. The rising case numbers, incidents, and COVID admissions only worsened an already aching heart. It was the thing we wanted to control the most, but the one thing that sadly we could not. No matter how hard we tried. People were dying, a lot of them, and for those accustomed to healing, this bitter pill was especially hard to swallow.

The side effects to COVID-19 on healthcare workers are multifaceted. They’re not just placing their physical bodies at risk, or even that of their families. They are also investing their hearts. The emotional and mental toil cannot be imagined unless you have faced it head on personally. I am a veteran, and I don’t use this term loosely, but I do consider this a battlefield of sorts. Nursing is fighting a war, one they feel they are losing, both at the bedside and in the court of public opinion. We’ve got battle scars already. I can’t imagine how it will feel down the road.

So, if you see a nurse, please cut them some slack. If they’re sharing about the benefits of social distancing, hand hygiene, or wearing a mask, realize it’s because they care. They’re not pushing any hidden agenda, playing politics, or even in on the “government hoax.” The fact is, we’ve seen far too much death already, we anticipate to see much more, and we want to prevent that if at all possible. There’s so much with this pandemic we cannot control, but maybe we can help save a life.

And for goodness sake, stop trying to convince us it’s not a big deal or as bad as the media says! I don’t even watch the news. But I do believe what my eyes tell me. And right now, sometimes through tears, they tell me we have to work together to stop this thing. Please.