I have written a
few entries about dreams and pursuing them, but I have only glazed the surface
of what my true dream is. I often have
people ask me what degree I am working to obtain and though I say it over and
over again, I understand why it’s hard to remember. My degree will be in Liberal Studies. For those of you who don’t know what that is,
at OSU it is a program through which you create your own degree. The way you do this is by selecting a series
of classes from any of the colleges in the Liberal Arts department and after
compiling them you write an essay justifying how each course relates to your theme. In order to properly explain my theme to you
I would like to tell you how I chose it.
What I have
discovered is that we don’t always get to choose who makes their way into our
lives. It isn’t always about whom we let
in or whom we manage to keep out. I
often find myself in a situation where I am wondering how a person got there. They entered my life not because I wanted
them to, but that I needed them to. I
didn’t know that I needed them. Often
these relationships caused me pain and though at the time I thought I would
have liked to have avoided the pain, it taught me something and that something
was usually about my character, purpose, or passion.
I manage to sit
up and dangle my legs over the side of the bed.
The mattress begins to inflate again due to the adjustment of
pressure. A hand is bracing my back and
the pain in my abdomen increases with every breath. I grasp the two outstretched arms and brace
myself as I get into the upright position.
My feet touch the floor. Legs
trembling, I manage to take my first step.
Looking for my next set goal I seek out the hard blue chair in the
corner. It seems so far away. The pain is throbbing, and my legs are so
weak I try to distract my mind. Tubes
are protruding out of me everywhere. The
tangled mess looks like a map of crisscrossing highways. Hands are coming from everywhere to help keep
the lines in place as I focus solely on my goal. Reaching the chair, I sit down with a sigh of
relief and a grunt from the pain. In…
Out… In… Out… I clutch the pillow closer to my chest as my mom pulls out the
camera. Cursed scrapbookers, they never
miss the perfectly inopportune moments to get a picture. What a lovely moment, my hair looks like I
was just electrocuted. In my mind I
wonder if it would be easier to cut it off instead of let my mom near it with a
brush. I know for certain it would be
less painful.
The nurse
returns with a wheelchair and I stand up once again and begin taking another
step. Walking on the sticky sparkle
covered floor of my room, I make it to the door where the wheelchair is. Lowered into the chair by the arms that held
me up, we turn towards the hall. Roaming
we follow the signs to the school. The
chair is hard and my neck is weak.
Straining to keep my head up since there is no headrest, I roll over the
striped carpet. Red, blue, green,
yellow, I watch as the stripes pass under my feet.
Turning to the
left we see the school’s secretary. She
talks to my parents about enrolling me as I continue to let my mind
wander. School is the last place I want to
be right now, but maybe it will take my mind off of the pain I am experiencing
from my incision. My bright yellow mask
seems to blend in here. Every student
has something in common; they are each connected to Lucile Packard Children’s
Hospital. The specific reason doesn’t
matter, what matters is that in this parallel universe we aren’t alone. Looking
around you might see children with scars, precious bald scalps, and bright
colored masks, but what I see is a world where I belong and potential friends
that will understand me.
It was in that
classroom that I met Rhonda. A beautiful
girl, but you would never know. She was
so thin her skin hung loosely on her bones.
Her ankles looked like they could snap as they bared her little weight.
Similar ages we were placed in the same class.
The yellow mask that covered up her smile drew out the pain that was in
her eyes. She had recently received a
heart transplant and was slowly on her way to recovery.
I will never
forget, it was Mother’s Day and Rhonda was so excited. Her mom was finally coming to visit. She hadn’t seen her mom in over a month since
the transplant. I came to her room to
help her make everything just perfect.
Lined up were several cards that she had made for her mom. The first card I opened said, “Mom, I have a
new heart. You can love me now.” Card
after card read similar messages. My
heart broke that day and it left a permanent scar.
I didn’t realize
it in the moment, but that was when I discovered my passion in life, to let
every child know they are loved. Holt International has a mission to share the
compassion and love that Christ had for children and to find them permanent
homes where they can feel safe and loved. When I answer the common question
“What do you want to do with your degree?”
I begin explaining my dream to work for Holt International and every
word pulses through my veins sending shivers from my cheeks, down through my
spine, to the back of my knees. The
reality of helping change and save the lives of children around the world draws
me in; mind, heart, body, and soul.
Rhonda’s mom
never did show up. I found out later
that she was in Child Protective Services and her mother wasn’t allowed to
visit. I asked my mom if we could adopt
her, but soon her situation changed and she was placed back in the hands of her
mom. Rhonda passed away later that year
when she coded in the ER. She had missed
some of her medications and her heart rejected.
I remember everything about the day I found out. Rhonda’s death was the first death that had
ever really touched me. Before her I had
never lost someone close to me. I couldn’t
help but think if she had been my sister, we could have saved her.
God has used my
disease to instill hope, not to steal it.
He has used it to open my eyes and change my heart through avenues only
few are privileged to pass. He has
created me a fighter. I fight for my
life and I hope to fight just as vigilantly for those children in Holt’s
orphanages someday.
The theme I have
chosen is International Adoption Publication.
I want to pursue a career where I can use my ability to write to help
the hurting, lost, precious, orphans around the world. If all my dreams come true I would also get
to be a mom to one or two or three of those beautiful spirited children. Knowing that dream seems unattainable right
now, I would be so blessed to have the opportunity to help through the avenues
that God has gifted me with. I am not
just pursuing a degree, I don’t want just an education, I want to live out my
passion; I want to love the unloved. I
don’t know why it took me 3 years of college to truly discover my purpose, but
when God gave me this dream it was so wonderfully perfect. It was in my heart all along, dating back to
the day I met Rhonda.
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