Next Stop: RN

Sitting here, riding on these smooth Metra rails toward my downtown testing center, I find myself reassured by God through friends and family both intentionally and not while I gulp down this persistent nausea. I'm going to take my NCLEX exam. If I pass it, I get to be Samantha L. Pierz RN BSN. That's a lot of letters. And I keep feeling undeserving of them. Somehow I convinced Illinois Wesleyan to give me a degree, and now I go to prove myself worthy of the license I've been working toward for the past five years by answering questions for what may (and probably will) take up to six hours. I'm scared, but not really, just anticipating the cruelty that is the NCLEX.

Fortunately I have a God who is faithful and good, even when I'm not. And He has the power to do anything, even if I don't feel like I can even pass a test. He wants good things for me, and He's led me down this rocky path that has felt more like a rollercoaster (one of those old wooden ones that aren't smooth and always give you a headache) than the paved road it looks like from afar. He's taught me to align my will with His. I never wanted to be a nurse until He put the idea in my head. So everytime I question my abilty, I'm questioning His call on my life and His ability to provide the knowledge and strength and talent I need to be exactly what He has made me to be. I mean, I also never wanted to go to Mexico, and now He's got me pining away after the country like some distant lover. He will get me through this, and if I'm meant to learn something from failing this first exam, then I'll learn it. It may hurt, but I think I've proven that I can be strong, when I lean on Him for my strength. He keeps instilling in me that His plan for me is good and so I have nothing to fear. I will go where He leads me, and I will go there loving and trusting Him with all that I am and have.

Clean Chair

During my five months in Mexico doing mission work, we had a lot of seemingly magical times when the Spirit was alive and active in our ministry. Usually after we did our consistent children's ministry stuff (clowns, songs, etc.) and we moved on to our adult dramas, that's when we really saw the Spirit at work and hearts changed. One of the drama's we did was called "The Clincher" (which pronounced in a Mexican accent is "clean chair") after the main song in it by the band Chevelle. This was exciting for me, because the guy who was the bassist in that band went to the same Bible study group as me a couple years ago, and we became friends (the picture of him on wikipedia was taken in the same kitchen [his] as the picture I took [to the left] of one of our many dance parties...gosh I miss him). And so besides having been a huge fan of the band when I was twelve, I had a special connection to the song.

During our lecture phase we learned this scriptless drama, and I was decidedly the main

character in it. If you've seen the "Everything" drama to the Lifehouse song, it's very similar to that, only more violent.

So during the drama I get beat up and thrown around (see fingerprint bruises from them grabbing and pushing me in photo) and for a portion of it I stand and watch as Albertho (who played Christ in the drama) is crucified in my place. During that part of the drama in particular, I don't know if the inner actor I was born to be comes out or if it's just the fact that it is an overly emotional thing for me to think about my salvation in such a realistic way, but I am near real tears every time. It really did tear me up inside every time we did the drama, even when we practiced. It wasn't until we went on outreach that I saw that I was letting the Spirit use my belief to show the truth of Christ's redemption.

When I would look out to the crowd watching as we demonstrated the gospel story, there would be tears streaming down most faces. People identified with the drama, but I think more so, they felt God's Spirit speak to and move in them. It was always physically and emotionally exhaustive to perform that drama, but to see how people were brought to the Truth through it, created such a spiritual high that I felt fully restored. Every night we would explain the drama, and usually someone would give a short message, and then people would ask for prayers, and more often than not there would be people ready to give their life to Christ. Part of my job was to count those people every day, and by the end of the trip we had hundreds upon hundreds

of tally marks collected during out short two months. I am not one to keep score, but it was thoroughly reassuring to see that God was working so significantly through us.

Bonding Over Hair

so i don't think anyone's actually reading this, but for it's therapeutic effect and just in case, i'll write something about Mexico for today.

Hair is one of those things that most girls are very particular about. Either they have a certain way they like to do it, change it often enough they can't get too bored, or give up entirely and basically don't care. One of the first nights I was in Tecate, one of the girls in our school, Sinai had to dye her hair, because she wanted it all black to match her passport. So we went and bought black hair dye. After dying her hair entirely, there was plenty left, so we decided to dye my hair underneath so that on top I was still gringa, but I had a little more Mexican in me. It was fun, and got us all giggling. Some good girl time.

Then during our second week, when I was still just getting to know everyone, somehow I convinced Dina to braid all of my hair into cornrows. So we stayed up well into the night doing just that. We snuck out of our cramped room and into the kitchen where we could have light to see, and she braided my hair. This left a lot of time for one on one discussion, which didn't happen much when you live with 25 people. We really got to know each other better, and downright felt like sisters by the wee hour when we headed to bed.

I also officially got my hair cut in Mexico. Don't ever get your hair cut in Mexico. Haha, not really, but I did have a bad cut. The day after I got it, I decided to straighten my hair. And to everyone's horror, it looked like this:

It was all choppy and looked as if a child with scissors got a hold of my head. Dina however, came to my rescue and took me back to have them fix it. This I would not have done, mostly because of the language barrier, but it taught me that it was okay for me to rely on her to get things done.

By the end of our lecture phase (the first three months primarily in Tecate) we had grown quite tired of how little there was to do in our free time. We were also going a bit stir crazy knowing that our outreach phase was coming. There was also the stress of losing our beloved Courtney (the only other American) and mi amorsito, Israel, in the same week. However, we made a new friend, John Paul who came down from Detroit with his father to spend a little time with us. One day we didn't know what to do with ourselves as we were given a few hours with which to do whatever we liked, and turns out Dina and JP share a love for the color purple, so of course we decided to dye my hair that color. I was too scared however to lose all of my "gringa", so I left the front of my bangs blonde. It actually turned out quite well, and just in time for the "fun day" with all four San Diego/Baja bases at a waterpark in Tijuana, where I got to spend the day with my lovely Susie! Below is a picture of me with my friend Jonathan who was in my DTS. Note the many colors of my hair, the obvious purple, but also the blonde bangs, and the black underneath, also Jonathan had just cut his hair into a mohawk-que chido!

During outreach there was little time to ever fuss about hair and even less use in doing so. We really learned to not care about the way we looked besides being presentable and and respectful as we could with dirty missionary clothes, and the rare bathroom in which to shower or even freshen up. But it was so much fun! Those moments and experiences centered around my silly hair really created fun and allowed my relationships with people to grow, mostly with Dina. (Mind you, Dina has the most magnificent hair ever!) It helped that I dyed my hair purple, because she loves that color so much it made her love me more. However, I did have to have my hair to a "normal" color for school, and most of it had faded out by then, unlike my love for Dina. Despite our distance, that hasn't faded at all.

a year later...

It's been a while. More precisely a year, since I returned from completing my DTS in Mexico. And I still miss it. I want to write to reminisce, but I fear that may take all my time, so I'm going to allow myself a small recollection of joy and learning from my time in Mexico each day. This is coming as a study break as I spend my last week attempting to prepare myself for the NCLEX. That's the exam that I take next Tuesday to become a REGISTERED NURSE! I'm feeling far less than confident in my ability to pass the first time, but they let you retake it if necessary. So as I study here in my room, I feel like I'm going slightly insane. A little bit of blogging may just remedy that.

You may have noticed the change in appearance here, or perhaps this is your first time viewing, either way, the photo at the top is going to be the focus of today's tidbit from Mexico.

In the Discipleship Training School I attended in Tecate, Mexico through YWAM, we were fortunate enough to spend some time at their mission bases in Tijuana and Ensenada as well as our own. We were blessed with the opportunity to spend some of this time with a School of Worship (SOW) that was going on during the same summer. While in Ensenada one week, the SOW shared their lectures with us. It was great to see the ways that God was working in them as they focused on different forms and styles of worship. This was one of the most influential part of my DTS, as we learned and experienced harp and bowl worship. It changed a lot about the way I worship and pray, and I became more aware of God's presence and the power we have through Him in prayer. It was amazing, and we had some time to go out to the beach and just pray and see what God wanted to tell us. It was amazing to purposefully just wait upon Him and listen with no agenda. I made my way to the sand just out of reach from the waves, and was overwhelmed with feelings of love from above! It blew my mind. I started drawing pictures in the sand and ended up drawing a huge heart in the sand and sat down inside it, in the same way that we are held so dearly inside God's heart. I listened to God as He told and showed me how He loves me SO much. How much He gave for me and how much He forgave in the name of Grace for me all came rushing through me and my Spirit was on fire with love in return.

The entire feeling reminds me of the song "How He Loves" (written by John Mark McMillin) which always gives me "Godbumps" and really expresses the way God makes me feel. My favorite line from the song is "If His grace is an ocean, we're all sinking." Which is exactly what hits me whenever I look back on that photo of me praying on the beach, and honestly every time I see the ocean. Needless to say, this is one of the reasons I miss the coast so much.