I don't know what to write.  I can't seem to get anything out.  All these words brew inside, grow wild and knock into each other in my chest, and just as they're about to spill forth I pull them back and bury them deep, as if expecting them to transform into something that will make sense and be worth having when I go back to upturn them again one day.

-  Adipose tissue looks glittery really close up, I remind myself as I compulsively snack on the weekly potlucks in the lounge.

-  My ideal surgery playlist would consist of BIGBANG, Spice Girls, and Jason Mraz.


-  That awful moment when you need to use the bathroom in the middle of a case.  And the sneaky feeling of relief when you realize no one can hear (or smell) farts in there.


-  As a med student, it is a privilege to be assigned to "bowel duty."


-  As is my luck, I only run into the hot doctor at times when I look most like a wrinkly blue mushroom.

Maybe I'm superstitious or whimsical or am able to make connections and a thesis about anything, but I really do believe in signs.  There are happy coincidences, and every once in awhile luck, and then there are moments that are just so directed to the unanswered or even un-asked questions in your heart that you just have to fully soak them in and etch them into your soul as a roadmap.  I don't think God is as silent as they say, especially if His heart is your mirror.  He likes to amaze us.

Tonight was the perfect ending to my 6 weeks of Family Med.  After all the missed chances I finally got to help deliver a perfectly healthy boy to two wonderful people who couldn't have loved each other more and who are going to love their son.  I got to see the awesome power that woman was designed to have to bring life, strength that she doesn't even realize she has.  And as the radio played "Mary Did You Know?" on the way home, reminded how Jesus came to us just the same way to give the ultimate gift only He could give.

Every day in clinic you see life and all the twists it can turn, but it would be a waste to always be waiting for the next destination and forget how full the present is.  I don't want to forget myself.  I want to grow, not change.  I want to find home by making a home - one of these days.

I don't know what 2017, or 2018, or the rest of the future holds, but I know my heart and when it is being pulled and I know when God is nodding, saying that 'This is good.'  With the audacity to be hopeful, I pray that these moments are reminders of His promises.