Last Monday I took my first position as a Registered Nurse. I started at NorthCare Hospice and Palliative Care.

I have had a lot of different jobs in my lifetime. Half of them are in the medical field, and the other half are spread across construction, printing, self employment and retail. At no time during the last 24 years did I feel like any of those jobs had any spiritual significance until last week.

Hospice was on my list for a couple of reasons. The first reason was simply the schedule. I’m a family man, and I have no desire for rotating twelve-hour shifts like nurses work in the hospital. The second reason was because I was really interested in work that was more relational in nature. So many nursing jobs are too fast paced. The goal is to get the patient in and out as quickly as possible. Certainly, there is nothing wrong with this type of medical career. Short hospital stays are an essential component to healthcare. I had decided that I just wanted something different.

Over the last few months I have shared my interest in hospice nursing with friends, family and coworkers. I have received a wide variety of responses. People who have no experience with hospice just say that it sounds like emotionally draining work. When I talk to someone who has first-hand experience with hospice they usually get emotional, start crying and share about family or friends who received services from hospice. When I talk to someone who works in hospice they get a smile on their face and simply say, “Hospice is more than a job. It’s a calling.”

After a week of orientation at NorthCare Hospice I understand the designation, “Calling.” Before last Monday I understood hospice to involve helping people die as comfortably as possible. After a week of general orientation I understand that hospice is so much more than that. Hospice doesn’t just focus on keeping patients comfortable, even though that is an important aspect of hospice care. No, hospice isn’t only about death. Hospice is also about life. Hospice is about helping patients function at the highest possible level during their last months of life. Hospice is about empowering people to identify what is most important to them and helping them engage their last days in a way that is the most fulfilling to them.

Hospice is a calling because I will be a pivotal figure in the final chapter of someone’s life. I will manage their overall care. I’m responsible to make sure that my clients are equipped with everything they need to live their final days with dignity. I will be a central figure in the lives of immediate family as well. I will have at my disposal a team of professionals whose only concern is the care and comfort of my client. We will leave no stone unturned to make sure that our clients and their immediate families feel the support they need to manage the most challenging time of their life.

I have had a lot of jobs that I didn’t feel really mattered beyond providing for my family. For the first time in my life I feel like I will be doing something professionally that really makes a difference. For the first time in my life I feel like I will have a job that God has called me to do.

It’s been three and a half years.

Three and a half years ago I was closing down my company. Julie and I were staring into an unknown future. We had no clue what we were going to do to provide long-term financial security for our family. I had a part-time job working at Comprehensive Mental Health as an LPN. We both knew that our options were limited with that type of medical license. After an evening of intense conversation we made a final decision. We decided that I needed to begin the process of bridging from an LPN certificate to an RN degree.

Tomorrow marks the completion of that goal. Tomorrow morning I start my first job as a Registered Nurse at Northcare Hospice.

Our family has made great sacrifices to achieve this goal. Julie has spent hundreds of evenings and weekends as a single parent as I have either been studying or out of town. The girls have had to have just one parent at their activities. They have had to leave me alone for many hours as I have studied in the basement. Friends have had to help pick up kids from school and be a sounding board for many a frustrating night. They have all done it willingly and without complaint.

Tomorrow it all becomes worth it. Tomorrow I get to just focus on my new career Monday through Friday without significant incursion into my family life. No late nights studying. No long trips out of town for more clinical rotations. No more of my poor wife trying to keep everyone upstairs so I can study for the next test. We get to have a regular schedule like regular folks.

There are too many people to thank for all the support over the last few years. You know who you are, and believe me when I tell you that your sacrifices have not gone unnoticed. To Julie, it is completely impossible for me to express to you my gratitude. You have sacrificed more than anyone can even begin to imagine. I owe everything I have accomplished over the last three-and-a-half years to your incredible support.

I love you, Julie. You are my best friend, and nothing will ever change that.

Julie and I have celebrated a lot of anniversaries. For the last 10-15 years we have made sure to spend a weekend out of town. We have stayed as far away as Mexico, and we have stayed as close as the Sheraton on the Plaza.

This year doesn’t get to be like any of our last few anniversaries. This year we are buried in my college experience. This month I get to spend three weekends in a row out of town right in the middle of our anniversary. I have also had to use all my vacation time for my trips out of town for school-related activities, so we won’t be taking any time off during the week either.

We are trying to stay focused on the task at hand. We are trying to remind ourselves that it is just this year that we have to sacrifice our yearly celebration for a more immediate goal. This year our anniversary is simple.

Today we celebrate our 24th wedding anniversary. It won’t be the most exciting anniversary we have ever celebrated, but it’s not our yearly celebrations that have made this relationship what it is today. It is our unwavering commitment to each other and our faith. In our 24 years together we have never once used the “D” word in a conversation. Neither one of us has had to sit and wonder if the other person was considering calling it quits. We have faced all of our challenges together. We have always believed in each other, and we have not been afraid to verbalize our support and love for each other.

We get a lot of compliments on our marriage. I’m here to tell everyone that our marriage is every bit as great as it looks like it is. We are really still in love after all these years. We have always described ourselves as a great team. That hasn’t changed at all. We continue to support and love each other in all circumstances. We continue to look the other way when our faults flare up. We continue to forgive unconditionally. We continue to love deeply.

Julie, I’m so very happy to be your husband. May the next 24 years be just as much fun and a lot less dramatic!

It has happened to a lot of medical professionals. We are sitting in CPR training and thinking to ourselves, “I am never going to use this stuff.” Something happened a couple of weeks ago that will keep me from ever thinking that again.

It was an afternoon just like any other. I left work at my regular time. Since I live out east, I always drive by Blue River Community College here in Independence. As I turned the corner on Jackson DR, I noticed a couple of ladies standing next to a man who was on a bicycle. As I got closer one of the ladies waved at me, and I noticed a look of panic on her face. I did a U-turn in the elementary driveway, drove back down Jackson and pulled into the college driveway.

When I got out of my car, I noticed that the gentleman was no longer on his bike. Instead, he was lying on the ground.  One of the ladies told me he was bleeding, so I looked at his head first. He was bleeding, but on closer inspection I noticed that his color was incredibly pale. “Hello, sir, can you hear me,” I asked him? There was no response. I rolled him onto his back and put my ear next to his mouth, and I tried to feel for a carotid pulse. I couldn’t find one. He was dead.

“I’m going to have to do CPR,” I thought to myself. Just as I had finished checking for a pulse, a Jackson County Sheriff Deputy came around the corner. One of the ladies standing next to me ran out into the street and flagged the officer down. The officer put on her lights, pulled over, got out and grabbed an emergency kit from the trunk of her patrol car.

“I rode an ambulance for nine years before I became a police officer,” she told me.

“I’m an LPN,” I responded.

“Okay, let’s do this,” she told me.

She instantly moved over to the gentleman’s chest. She found his xiphoid process and began chest compressions. I grabbed a CPR mask from her emergency kit, and we started CPR.

“Help me count,” she told me in a very calm voice.

“One, two, three, four, five, six…” we counted together till we reached thirty.

“Breathe,” we yelled in unison and I gave my two breaths, blowing oxygen into his mouth twice.

We continued thirty-to-two cycles for a couple of minutes until Independence Fire made an appearance. We continued CPR while the paramedic on the fire truck got the gentleman connected to a defibrillator.

“He’s in v-tack,” he called out to us. “Get clear so I can shock him.”

He administered one shock and told us to continue CPR, and we did. After a couple more minutes the paramedic informed us that the gentleman was still in v-tack, which is a rapid heart beat, an irregularity that often results in death. He needed another shock.

“Clear,” he yelled and delivered another shock. “I’ve got sinus rhythm,” he called out to us.

I looked at the gentleman and the paramedic was correct. He was breathing again. The firefighters got him onto a backboard just as the ambulance showed up. The paramedic from the ambulance quickly checked things out, look at the sheriff deputy and me and said, “You guys just saved this man’s life.”

So the next time you are in CPR class, and you’re tempted to feel like you are wasting your time, think again. You never know when a complete stranger will need you. On that day, you will be glad you paid attention on training day.

Editor’s Note: This post isn’t about money, so don’t freak out!

If you have been through the Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University than you are familiar with his description of a woman’s security gland.

Basically, Dave teaches that much of a woman’s sense of security is attached to her financial wellbeing. During our 23 years of marriage Julie and I have seen several ups and downs financially. I can attest to the existence of the female security gland. It may not show up on any medical scans, but believe me, it does exist.

Just as many women have a security gland, many men have a fix it gland. The minute we are confronted with a problem we go into fix-it mode. The biggest challenge for men is trying to figure out when to try to fix something and when to just be an observer.

Two of my daughters are knee deep into their teen years. My fix-it gland is in a state of constant spasm. They make so many poor decisions, and they lack so much experience that teachable moments abound.

Last night Julie and I were lamenting some issues that we have been wrestling with for a while. We both agreed that we needed to spend some time in prayer, but as we examined the issue at hand we both found ourselves discouraged. We both felt completely prayed out. We have spent so much time on our knees in prayer that we both have run our words dry.

Last night we didn’t pray about the problem directly. Last night we prayed about our ability to rest in the midst of the storm. Just as we are not always the cause of the problem, we aren’t always going to be the solution either.

Sometimes, it’s not about fixing anything.

Sometimes, it’s just about having faith, and sometimes faith is harder than anything else.