Aaaaaah! For all you people considering nursing study out there. I shall tell you one thing about the beginning of second year: we have to do presentations. This is not one, or two, its at least 3! We have to give a lecture (with a group) and things like that. The lecturer calls it "sharing with your colleagues", which is fair enough, but its enough to drive anyone to distraction. The worst part is that the first group was on today and they were practically perfect.
I am happy with high standards, but it is HARD WORK. No matter, I am not complaining, for I am enjoying every minute. Just pray I don't slack off and go off to write blog posts.
:O:O:O:O:O:O
Wednesday, 29 February 2012
Monday, 27 February 2012
study
My next series of posts will be very study related I think. I have now begun back at uni, learning about ethics, chronic diseases, impaired body function and wound healing as well as much more.
It has been great to get back into study, to have some structure and direction and purpose again.
The study itself has also begun well, with several new lecturers. My new main lecturer is really a key to my happiness here. He is the best teacher that I have ever had. He is open, honest, and straightforward, with a great, involving teaching style, and a good sense of humor. Hes got an interesting accent, from the Caribbean which is cool, but himself studied in the UK. He has a Dutch father, so maybe that is where his humor is from. :D
Besides all that happening, I also saw a good friend again the other day. I met D (practicing confidentiality) at a camp and soon afterwards got his number. Ever since, for over a year we have stayed in contact by text messaging. (I wonder how much people spend on others in that way.) Going for over a year without seeing someone can be totally fine, but then it hurts when you finally see each other and then have to leave again. The only thing you can do about it is to remember that God keeps all His children in His care, like the sparrows in the field. This, and praying that perhaps you may meet again soon. Back to the story, I was going to meet him and his friend, but didn't see them, so I left again later. I was just back at the beginning and he contacts me that he has arrived, right where I was. So, back down I go, but he had to drop off his friend first. I am grateful that he took the effort to come back again from dropping off his friend so that we could have a bit of a chat. Now, for a while again, we are more than just a friendly finger on the other side of the phone. How long will it last? I don't know, that is what I am paining about.
After writing all of that, I realized that I had seen him about halfway through the year on a Sunday morning for about half an hour or so. It just doesn't seem to count.
Such is the problem with me. I make friends with far away people and then agonize over never seeing them. Just like two other Ds in my life and several other people.
No matter, thank God for the internet (truly, not blaspheming here).
Hope you all do well. Don't forget to leave a comment. I love them!!!
It has been great to get back into study, to have some structure and direction and purpose again.
The study itself has also begun well, with several new lecturers. My new main lecturer is really a key to my happiness here. He is the best teacher that I have ever had. He is open, honest, and straightforward, with a great, involving teaching style, and a good sense of humor. Hes got an interesting accent, from the Caribbean which is cool, but himself studied in the UK. He has a Dutch father, so maybe that is where his humor is from. :D
Besides all that happening, I also saw a good friend again the other day. I met D (practicing confidentiality) at a camp and soon afterwards got his number. Ever since, for over a year we have stayed in contact by text messaging. (I wonder how much people spend on others in that way.) Going for over a year without seeing someone can be totally fine, but then it hurts when you finally see each other and then have to leave again. The only thing you can do about it is to remember that God keeps all His children in His care, like the sparrows in the field. This, and praying that perhaps you may meet again soon. Back to the story, I was going to meet him and his friend, but didn't see them, so I left again later. I was just back at the beginning and he contacts me that he has arrived, right where I was. So, back down I go, but he had to drop off his friend first. I am grateful that he took the effort to come back again from dropping off his friend so that we could have a bit of a chat. Now, for a while again, we are more than just a friendly finger on the other side of the phone. How long will it last? I don't know, that is what I am paining about.
After writing all of that, I realized that I had seen him about halfway through the year on a Sunday morning for about half an hour or so. It just doesn't seem to count.
Such is the problem with me. I make friends with far away people and then agonize over never seeing them. Just like two other Ds in my life and several other people.
No matter, thank God for the internet (truly, not blaspheming here).
Hope you all do well. Don't forget to leave a comment. I love them!!!
Wednesday, 15 February 2012
anti-valentines
Ok, this post is quite different, for the simple fact that I am going to inform you all of something.
Anti-valentines? Ok, not quite what it sounds like.
This year is a leap year. (You with me?)
The 29th of February is the leap year day. (You still with me?)
Ok, here is the punch line. On that day, that comes once every four years something special happens.
That is the ONLY day, once every four years, when girls are allowed to ask guys out instead of the other way.
I can hear you laughing, but I have this on good authority. So, girls, you better start thinking. And guys, I'm sorry, but I don't have any advice for you on this matter. Just be aware!
On that note, everyone enjoy!
Anti-valentines? Ok, not quite what it sounds like.
This year is a leap year. (You with me?)
The 29th of February is the leap year day. (You still with me?)
Ok, here is the punch line. On that day, that comes once every four years something special happens.
That is the ONLY day, once every four years, when girls are allowed to ask guys out instead of the other way.
I can hear you laughing, but I have this on good authority. So, girls, you better start thinking. And guys, I'm sorry, but I don't have any advice for you on this matter. Just be aware!
On that note, everyone enjoy!
Tuesday, 7 February 2012
birdy lessons
What can one learn from a bald, tiny, squeeky, baby budgie?
Compare yourself and that bird and the relationship there to God and yourself and the relationship there.
Yes, I don't think comparing my blundering efforts of saving a chick to God's omnipotent work is very fair, but it does make a point, and that is all that I am trying to do.
I could hold that bird in one hand. It fit perfectly. I could see, and feel its heart beating. I could see its need. I longed to care for it as best I could. I could hear its pitiful peeping. I could feel it feeble efforts to kick against my hand, to go its own way. I could see it trying to walk on wobbly legs, moving slowly, falling over. (I'm going to make myself cry!) I think you get the picture though.
How does that liken to me, and God's watch over me?
I fit in His hand, perfectly. Where could ever be safer? When God is looking after me, in His care, why should I be afraid? That bird, for all its thrashing, would also, many times lie, with its head resting against my finger and fall asleep in my care. Should I do any less? "because He cares for you." 1 Peter 5:7
God can see me, and He can see through me. Not only in such a way to see my heart beat, and see the food in my gullet, but more than that. He sees my thoughts, my fears, my needs. He sees my wounds, like the one on the birds wing and He can do a much better job cleaning them up.
God knows what I need to live. He feeds me, not only physically, but on His word and by His Spirit. He cares for me, not even as I cared for that bird, and could then throw it in the compost bin, but like as a father. He cares for the sparrows, and the budgies. Much, much more He cares for me.
He hears my prayers, my peeping when my wounds are hurting. He cares for me, He helps, He wipes away my tears and fears. Birds don't cry, at least, not that I know of. I do know that with the pain that the chick had, if it had cried, I would have carefully dried away its tears. As it was, it could barely open its eyes to look at the world around it. I am also, so blind to what is around me, to the good and the bad. We struggle to open our eyes, and to understand. My eyes are open however, to see God's care in my life.
When I struggle and kick against God's hand, He doesn't drop me. He helps me to rest in His care. He doesn't confine me, but guides me in my paths of discovery, to learn, to grow. I try to go my own way, fail, and turn back to God. Now all I want is to snuggle as close in the palm of His hand as is possible. He keeps me from stumbling, picks me up when I am weak and fall over. He gives strength, and guidance to choose the right path. He cares for me like I did that nameless chick, but infinitely better. And when I die, I know that I shall be safe in glory with Him, to praise Him in all eternity for all the good He has done for His flock.
"Are not five sparrows sold for two cents? Yet not one of them is forgotten before God.
"Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows." Luke 12:6-7.
Compare yourself and that bird and the relationship there to God and yourself and the relationship there.
Yes, I don't think comparing my blundering efforts of saving a chick to God's omnipotent work is very fair, but it does make a point, and that is all that I am trying to do.
I could hold that bird in one hand. It fit perfectly. I could see, and feel its heart beating. I could see its need. I longed to care for it as best I could. I could hear its pitiful peeping. I could feel it feeble efforts to kick against my hand, to go its own way. I could see it trying to walk on wobbly legs, moving slowly, falling over. (I'm going to make myself cry!) I think you get the picture though.
How does that liken to me, and God's watch over me?
I fit in His hand, perfectly. Where could ever be safer? When God is looking after me, in His care, why should I be afraid? That bird, for all its thrashing, would also, many times lie, with its head resting against my finger and fall asleep in my care. Should I do any less? "because He cares for you." 1 Peter 5:7
God can see me, and He can see through me. Not only in such a way to see my heart beat, and see the food in my gullet, but more than that. He sees my thoughts, my fears, my needs. He sees my wounds, like the one on the birds wing and He can do a much better job cleaning them up.
God knows what I need to live. He feeds me, not only physically, but on His word and by His Spirit. He cares for me, not even as I cared for that bird, and could then throw it in the compost bin, but like as a father. He cares for the sparrows, and the budgies. Much, much more He cares for me.
He hears my prayers, my peeping when my wounds are hurting. He cares for me, He helps, He wipes away my tears and fears. Birds don't cry, at least, not that I know of. I do know that with the pain that the chick had, if it had cried, I would have carefully dried away its tears. As it was, it could barely open its eyes to look at the world around it. I am also, so blind to what is around me, to the good and the bad. We struggle to open our eyes, and to understand. My eyes are open however, to see God's care in my life.
When I struggle and kick against God's hand, He doesn't drop me. He helps me to rest in His care. He doesn't confine me, but guides me in my paths of discovery, to learn, to grow. I try to go my own way, fail, and turn back to God. Now all I want is to snuggle as close in the palm of His hand as is possible. He keeps me from stumbling, picks me up when I am weak and fall over. He gives strength, and guidance to choose the right path. He cares for me like I did that nameless chick, but infinitely better. And when I die, I know that I shall be safe in glory with Him, to praise Him in all eternity for all the good He has done for His flock.
"Are not five sparrows sold for two cents? Yet not one of them is forgotten before God.
"Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows." Luke 12:6-7.
baby birds
This post is really very late in coming. For those who know when the inspiration of this blog took place, they would agree with me. Its been about 2 weeks already I think, if not 3.
What happened? Well, first the story, then the lesson.
Once upon a time....our family keeps budgies. Well, really they are my dad's, but in a way they are the whole family's. (We also have a canary that we found on our front lawn and caught and now keep.) We have approximately 15 at the moment. All differing ages, some older, some younger, some chicks. There are blue, purple yellow green and white. The yellow female and her mate were raising a new lot of chicks, 3 as it turns out. Then, suddenly, one afternoon, when my dad WASN'T home, my mum tells me to come and take a look outside. There, on the ground of the aviary lies a chick. Maybe a week old, bare, and yeah, well, pretty ugly, but oh so cute! (Sadly, no picture) This poor chick was alive and we would have figured that it had been kicked out by its mother. This wasn't the case, however, because immediately we saw the mother, tucked away in a corner, dead. NOT GOOD! What about the other chicks then? Quickly, have a look. First, find the right nest box and then peek inside. It was a bit hard to peek, considering it was the highest one! Stick my hand in and come out with 2 dead, bloody chicks. Sad. How do you save a chick that is a week old, max, has a wound on its wing, and has no mother? Tell you in a sec, first the culprit.
How the mother bird died, we do not know. No injuries whatsoever to be seen. Maybe it was sick. Not so with the chicks. Birds are not always cute and cuddly. No sir. Another female decided that this was her chance. She got in there and killed two of the birds and managed to kick the last one out. I don't know what the father did, but it didn't help. We put her in solitary confinement :) Now she has a companion of another troublemaker, but they aren't very good friends.
Back to the chick. Because my dad wasn't home my mum and I had to decide what to do. We couldn't call dad for help either (different story). Oh dear. We decided that if we left it it would die, and if we tried to do something it could still die, but hey, then at least it had a chance.
Try #1: Put it in a cage with the father and let him take care of it. That was a good idea, wasn't it? It is if the father cares! He spent the whole time trying to look for a way out! No concern for the baby. I mean, hey, what about parental instincts?! Not for that bird.
Try #2: We had to keep him warm so we took it inside, in a cloth in a cage. Not that the cage mattered, because it couldn't fly anyway. So, he had warmth, but what do you feed it? That is not so simple! Google, great machine, but not as helpful as I would've liked. Off to the pet shop, pick up some 'formula'. Mix a tiny bit with some water and try to feed it. That is one BIG mission. Eventually, over the course of the evening I managed to get some food and water into it. It was fairly spirited and kicked out a bit.
I don't know if any of you have gone to such a mission, to care for something small and tiny, but it does something to you. Maybe the father didn't have parental instincts, but I sure did have the instinct to care and to put my heart into caring for this small bare bird. We figured that if it would survive the night then it had a good chance of living into adulthood. I planned to get up at 5 the next morning to feed it, after seeing if it was still breathing. A situation like that however, does NOT allow you enough peace of mind to sleep. I was up at 2, wide awake and had to go check. It was alive! It was cheeping too,and its eyes were starting to open! I can hear some of you say, aaawww, how cool! It was! It made me so happy. 2 am is not really classified as surviving a night though! Back to bed after giving it some food and up again at 530. Some more food for a living birdie. To cut the rest of the story short, my hopes were rising by the hour, and so were the rest of my pessimistic family's. That is, till that afternoon. I took it out at 3 in the afternoon to feed it. A couple of minutes later, that not so very chirpy bird died in my hand. Yep, dead. Well, I tidied everything up. The food, the water, the teaspoons and syringes. The container and the soft cloths. Then, (sorry, this will sound terrible) I threw it in the compost bin. Mum says, have you told the others? Here I am, trying not to be too sad, because I knew that there was high chance of this happening, and I have to tell my 16 and 6 year old siblings? Well, I did it, put on a brave face. They took it well. They were ready for it.
That is the story. Long huh? Sad too aye. It showed me some things though but they come in the next post...
What happened? Well, first the story, then the lesson.
Once upon a time....our family keeps budgies. Well, really they are my dad's, but in a way they are the whole family's. (We also have a canary that we found on our front lawn and caught and now keep.) We have approximately 15 at the moment. All differing ages, some older, some younger, some chicks. There are blue, purple yellow green and white. The yellow female and her mate were raising a new lot of chicks, 3 as it turns out. Then, suddenly, one afternoon, when my dad WASN'T home, my mum tells me to come and take a look outside. There, on the ground of the aviary lies a chick. Maybe a week old, bare, and yeah, well, pretty ugly, but oh so cute! (Sadly, no picture) This poor chick was alive and we would have figured that it had been kicked out by its mother. This wasn't the case, however, because immediately we saw the mother, tucked away in a corner, dead. NOT GOOD! What about the other chicks then? Quickly, have a look. First, find the right nest box and then peek inside. It was a bit hard to peek, considering it was the highest one! Stick my hand in and come out with 2 dead, bloody chicks. Sad. How do you save a chick that is a week old, max, has a wound on its wing, and has no mother? Tell you in a sec, first the culprit.
How the mother bird died, we do not know. No injuries whatsoever to be seen. Maybe it was sick. Not so with the chicks. Birds are not always cute and cuddly. No sir. Another female decided that this was her chance. She got in there and killed two of the birds and managed to kick the last one out. I don't know what the father did, but it didn't help. We put her in solitary confinement :) Now she has a companion of another troublemaker, but they aren't very good friends.
Back to the chick. Because my dad wasn't home my mum and I had to decide what to do. We couldn't call dad for help either (different story). Oh dear. We decided that if we left it it would die, and if we tried to do something it could still die, but hey, then at least it had a chance.
Try #1: Put it in a cage with the father and let him take care of it. That was a good idea, wasn't it? It is if the father cares! He spent the whole time trying to look for a way out! No concern for the baby. I mean, hey, what about parental instincts?! Not for that bird.
Try #2: We had to keep him warm so we took it inside, in a cloth in a cage. Not that the cage mattered, because it couldn't fly anyway. So, he had warmth, but what do you feed it? That is not so simple! Google, great machine, but not as helpful as I would've liked. Off to the pet shop, pick up some 'formula'. Mix a tiny bit with some water and try to feed it. That is one BIG mission. Eventually, over the course of the evening I managed to get some food and water into it. It was fairly spirited and kicked out a bit.
I don't know if any of you have gone to such a mission, to care for something small and tiny, but it does something to you. Maybe the father didn't have parental instincts, but I sure did have the instinct to care and to put my heart into caring for this small bare bird. We figured that if it would survive the night then it had a good chance of living into adulthood. I planned to get up at 5 the next morning to feed it, after seeing if it was still breathing. A situation like that however, does NOT allow you enough peace of mind to sleep. I was up at 2, wide awake and had to go check. It was alive! It was cheeping too,and its eyes were starting to open! I can hear some of you say, aaawww, how cool! It was! It made me so happy. 2 am is not really classified as surviving a night though! Back to bed after giving it some food and up again at 530. Some more food for a living birdie. To cut the rest of the story short, my hopes were rising by the hour, and so were the rest of my pessimistic family's. That is, till that afternoon. I took it out at 3 in the afternoon to feed it. A couple of minutes later, that not so very chirpy bird died in my hand. Yep, dead. Well, I tidied everything up. The food, the water, the teaspoons and syringes. The container and the soft cloths. Then, (sorry, this will sound terrible) I threw it in the compost bin. Mum says, have you told the others? Here I am, trying not to be too sad, because I knew that there was high chance of this happening, and I have to tell my 16 and 6 year old siblings? Well, I did it, put on a brave face. They took it well. They were ready for it.
That is the story. Long huh? Sad too aye. It showed me some things though but they come in the next post...
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