Something occurs to me to be a bit ironic every time i enter a particular roundabout in south Lincoln that is situated between the new YMCA center and the new public library… A roundabout gives you options and this one lets you choose, on one side the library — books, knowledge, cafe mochas, internet connection, dewey decimal system — and on the other, the YMCA — exercise, fitness, spinning classes and muscled men, cute workout clothes and primo locker rooms. Is this a bit ironic to anyone else? It seems to me to be a very obvious division between the physically fit and the bookworms of Lincoln, Nebraska! In fact, everytime I veer off to the right (the library) I simultaneously feel guilty for only seeing the interior of the Y once and irritated with my jealousy of all the people I imagine who are only interested in the shape of their beautifully toned bodies.
S-i-g-h.
It’s the roundabout’s fault!
Ironically, too — the people who are truly well-rounded (grab the pun) have experienced both sides of the roundabout. I can only think of one person I know who exists in both “worlds.” It’s probably true that usually one chooses either the library or the YMCA. Ah, the roundabout.
When my little brother Andrew was in elementary school and I in junior high I used to say, “Oh Andrew — just wait til you get here. Junior High is great!”
Four years later, “Andrew, junior high is nothing… High school is the best!”
Approximately four years later, “You will LOVE college. You can skip classes if you want, no one tells you that you have to be in school. College life is great!”
I think it was at this point that Andrew exploded and told me that I always said “the next step” was the best. He was right. Four years younger meant he experienced everything after me… It’s only now that I’m in the sometimes-boring adult world that I turn around and tell him to enjoy the college years, that these are years of freedom and fun and learning that you’ll probably never experience after graduation. The truth of the matter is that each stage of life is great and wonderful, each day meant to be experienced and enjoyed because it is where God has placed us.
As I eagerly look forward to the next stage of my life and become increasingly impatient with my current status, I find great comfort in this reminder: “The life of faith is lived one day at a time, and it has to be lived — not always looked forward to as though the ‘real’ living were around the next corner. It is today for which we are responsible. God still owns tomorrow.” (Elisabeth Elliot, Let Me Be a Woman)
I have no idea who Betty Stam is, but I have discovered her prayer through Elisabeth Elliot’s Let Me Be a Woman. This prayer is one of humility and faith, one I would like to repeat every morning:
“Lord, I give up all my own plans and purposes, all my own desires and hopes, and accept Thy will for my life. I give myself, my life, my all utterly to Thee to be Thine forever. Fill me and seal me with Thy Holy Spirit. Use me as Thou wilt, work out Thy whole will in my life at any cost, now and forever.”
I caught the tale end of a sports segment on the news last night about this girl who, I suppose, was nervous and needed assistance in singing the Star Spangled Banner before some sports event (and this wasn’t peewee football, it looked like a college or pro game). The reason it got press attention was because the coach of one of the teams put his arm around her and sang along to help encourage her — I’ll admit, it was kind of sweet. A few things annoyed me, though… 1) She didn’t know all the words, and 2) she was pretty off-key.
Come on, people! How hard can it be to know the words to our NATIONAL ANTHEM?
Note to self… What the Next Generation of Tredways Must Know: the correct lyrics to the Star Spangled Banner.
Oh my gosh. My dead ancestors would roll over in their graves if they could see stuff like this (and the tampon commercials on television these days — heck, they even make me blush!).
Happy Birthday to Charity Lynn Throener! 25 years old today. Lift your glass and cheer this girl I met over 13 years ago… We were both (dorky) 7th graders at Pound Junior High who had recently moved to town, both needing friends amidst the maze and chaos that defines those young adolescent years. Encore, Mr. D (the egomaniac) falling off the table – ha! and telling me to “get those greasy bangs out of my face”, Paula and Yucca (“Yucca, my cup ranneth over about 10 minutes ago!” “Cosmo-freakin-politan.” belch.), youth group at EFree & one very fun New Year’s Eve party, DC Talk & Audio Adrenaline concerts, 9th grade basketball (including the infamous flash of pink at the Lefler game!!), and lots of passing notes between classes. Moving onto Southeast High School we thought we had arrived… Spring Day, plays and musicals, journalism, tp-ing cars, getting rejected for basketball and the one-act in the same month, football games at Seacrest, proms and post-proms, major crushes on boys (some pretty cool and some, we now realize, quite unattractive!), experiencing Horn Creek and realizing our lives were forever changed by it, visiting Lipscomb University and Covenant College, still writing notes and passing them in the halls, and finally graduating and successfully moving on. You to Covenant and I to the University — both not sure of what we were getting into. You found a family there and I found mine here; amazing how God works, huh? : ) The Philippines and FFH, St. Louis and CTS. Lincoln, Nebraska. Soon to be living next door. It’s been a beautiful 13 years. I love you! Happy Birthday, Scarlett/Paula/CT!
Salty, stinging, sleepy eyes. Drifting in a heavy half-conscious dream-like state. Unquenchable thirst where room temperature tap water tastes amazingly sweet and refreshing. This is what I feel like when my blood sugar is 372. Which it was 5 minutes ago. God bless the day insulin was discovered.
The body that has normal pancreatic functioning maintains a blood sugar (also called glucose) of 80-120 or so all the time. When I was 16 I entered Bryan Hospital’s pediatric ward with a bs (I love referring to it like that) of over 800, setting a record for the highest glucose reading of any patient walking into the hospital on her own two feet. I think some unfortunate soul broke my record shortly thereafter. The day I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes I nearly fainted during choir rehearsal at school, told the nurse and my mother I felt good enough to drive myself home, promptly went home and ate a humongous piece of fudge. That piece alone probably kicked me from a 600 or so to my record-setting reading several hours later. Mom and I went to our family doctor’s office that afternoon (November 13, 1994 — a day that will live in infamy) praying that God would reveal to us what was wrong with me. And He did.
You know how some people say, “What doesn’t kill you make you stronger!”? I disagree. Diabetes sucks. I’d love to live my life without it.
Diabetes has, however, helped me become a more compassionate, empathetic person who greatly values both the workings of the human body and the incredible God who created all our parts to function as a whole. It also grants me a longing for heaven, when my body will be made perfect again, that I would otherwise complacently ignore. In a way diabetes is my reminder to not get too comfortable this side of glory.
So even though I completely, totally, unequivocally despise the fact that my blood sugars can range from 460 to 35 (my personal highs and lows), I am not left without hope in my struggles. My current 372 is already coming down and I’ll feel normal again in a few more hours.
God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good.
My latest reading obsession is historical biographies related to war. After watching HBO’s “Band of Brothers” (highly, highly, highly recommended) I’ve been fascinated by personal tales of military tragedies and triumphs. I am especially taken with prisoner of war stories, which account for the last four of six war-related novels I’ve read recently:
Band of Brothers: E Company, 506th Regiment, 101st Airborne from Normandy to Hitler’s Eagle Nest, Stephen Ambrose
Edith’s Story, Edith Velmans-Van Hessen
Faith of our Fathers, John McCain, Mark Salter
Ghost Soldiers: The Epic Account of World War II’s Greatest Rescue Mission, Hampton Sides
In Love and War: The Story of a Family’s Ordeal and Sacrifice during the Vietnam Years, James & Sybil Stockdale
We, Band of Angels: The Untold Story of American Nurses Trapped on Bataan by the Japanese, Elizabeth M. Norman
And congratulations to Sarah & Dave who celebrated their 1st anniversary last Sunday (April 13) and to Haley & Dan who entered into holy matrimony yesterday in Hattiesburg, Mississippi.