Sometimes we get stuck seeing things our way. Would you like to see some things through another set of eyes? Maybe it will make you think and stretch or maybe just chuckle or shed a tear. Here is my world through my eyes...
If you read this blog regularly, you know a little bit about my parents' circumstances. Recently my dad was transferred from a rehabilitation care center to a long-term care center just a few blocks from the one where my mom lives. The ultimate goal is to get them in the same care center, and this move was a huge step towards making that happen. But in the wake of that transfer, the unthinkable happened. The rehabilitation care center neglected to forward the crucial information that my dad is an insulin-dependent diabetic.
The transferred records did document that my dad is diabetic. The Friday after my dad's move to the new care center, the nurse-practitioner there undertook a thorough review of my dad's medical history. Although there were no orders for insulin, she thought it prudent to regularly check his blood sugar levels, and ordered the staff to check them twice a day.
The Monday morning following, Dad's blood sugars skyrocketed to over 500 (100 or less is normal). My sister tells what transpired over the next few hours:
"The nurse practitioner worked with the staff all day administering various units of insulin, but even though they were pumping him full of the stuff his number kept climbing. When I talked to staff later in the evening, he'd hit 579 with no end in sight, so we decided it would be best to take him to the hospital to determine what was causing it and get him on IV insulin to bring it down."
It was back in the hospital where the gross oversight by the rehabilitation care center was discovered. My insulin-dependent father had gone almost a full week with no insulin!
There could have been a very different ending to this incident in my dad's life. But thanks to an ordinary hero named Kathy, my tears today are not of sorrow, but of gratitude. So Kathy, thanks for doing your job and for doing it well. Thanks for thinking proactively. Thanks for caring about the people your position places in your care.
And thanks to all the Kathys out there, who work hard day in and day out, caring for our loved ones in ways we are not able to.
Sometimes life can be rough. Things don't work out like we envisioned, jobs don't come, we remain relatively poor, accidents happen, and people die. Our mind, body or family doesn't come through like we hoped, dreams are dashed, disasters happen, God doesn't do what we want when we hoped he would, and maybe worst of all people don't love us like we thought they would. Oh and that's just the worst of it.
Sometimes small things happen just right, like, someone smiles to us at just the right time, the tax refund pays the unexpected bill, family tells us how wonderful we are, "I love you"s come in time to save our heart or life, and we get a serendipitous surprise that means everything.
That's life! Life doesn't always go just right. And if it did, for some few folks, that itself would be a huge test. Life tests us and then tests some more. God is the tester and we submitted ourselves for the test, because the reward is so huge that the chance to succeed and the risk in the effort is worth it. That's Life! Don't you love it?
That's Life by Micheal Buble:
Lyrics for That's Life:
(Don't let it get you, don't let it get you down
For this world keeps on spinning 'round)
That's life
That's what all the people say
You're riding high in April
You're shot down in May
I know I'm gonna change that tune
When I'm back on top in June
I say that's life
& as funny as it may seem
Some people get their kicks
Stompin' on your dreams
But I don't let it, let it get me down
'Cause this fine ol' world keeps spinning 'round
I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate,
A poet, a pawn & a king
I've been up & down & over & out
But I know one thing
Each time I find myself, flat on this face
I pick myself up & get back in the race
That's life
I can't deny it
I thought of quitting, baby
This heart wasn't gonna buy it
And if I didn't think it was worth one single try
I'd jump right on a big bird & then I'd fly
I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate,
A poet, a pawn & a king
I've been up & down & over & out
And I know one thing
Each time I find myself flat on my face
I pick myself up & get back in the race
That's life
That's life & I can't deny it
Many times I thought of cutting out
But my heart won't buy it
But if there's nothing shakin' come this here July
I'm gonna roll
I'm gonna roll
I'm gonna roll myself up in a big ball & die
Can't deny it
That's life
Here's a poem you might enjoy by Grace Noll Crowell that goes along with the song.
This, too, will pass. O heart, say it over and over,
Out of your deepest sorrow, out of your deepest grief,
No hurt can last forever -- perhaps tomorrow will bring relief.
This, too, will pass. It will spend itself -- its fury
Will die as the wind dies down with the setting sun.
Assuaged and calm, you will rest again,
Forgetting a thing that is done.
Repeat it again and again, O heart for your comfort:
This, too, will pass as surely as passed before
The old forgotten pain, and the other sorrows
That once you bore.
As certain as stars at night, or dawn after darkness,
Inherent as the lift of the blowing grass,
Whatever your despair or your frustration,
This, too, will pass.
-- Grace Noll Crowell
This past Sunday, I watched the Mormon Tabernacle Choir's weekly broadcast, "Music and the Spoken Word." I've always had a powerful connection to music. I sing it, play it, hum it, listen to it, and occasionally even write it. Music inspires me, comforts me, and evokes strong memories for me. But my ears were not the conduit for the message I was to receive this day.
The television cameras focused frequently on those singers in the middle of the 350-member choir, especially at the seam where women and men stood shoulder to shoulder, the animated figure of their conductor superimposed over the junction of blue gowns and black suits. But on one sweep of the cameras, I noticed several choir members on the outermost edge of the upper row. As I considered their relative distance from the limelight--so to speak--it struck me that these choir members on the selvage of the chorale are just as vital to the group as those placed front and center. Their contributions are no less important, meaningful, or substantial, just because they are not always as visible.
This experience brought to my mind a poem by Carol Lynn Pearson titled "The Cast". I typed a copy of it onto a 3 x 5 index card close to 40 years ago, using my mother's old manual typewriter. (Most of the people who may read this have probably never even used an electric typewriter, much less its predecessor!) I still carry that card with me in my scriptures. Here's the poem:
"I lost the starring part in Our Town to Linda, a girl not half as good as me, who kept her eyes down for the whole tryout, and even stuttered.
"When the cast was posted and the high school drama coach saw me reading it through my tears, he put an arm around me and said, 'Now look--things are not always as they appear. This is not Broadway. It's an educational institution. We're here for two reasons: to put on a show and, more important, to help people grow. Someday you'll see.'
"So Linda played Emily, and she didn't even stutter. And I was third woman at the wedding, watching and wondering how he knew what she could really do if she had the chance.
"Since then I have guessed that God, being a whole lot smarter than my high school drama coach, might be offstage sometimes with an arm around a questioning cast: 'Now don't try to outguess me. Sometimes the first shall be last and the last shall be first. And I've got my own reasons. I need some strong ones to star and some strong ones to stand back. And I'm going to put out front some you might not choose. But you'll see what they can really do when they have the chance. Mortality is an educational institution. We've got to put on the show and too, we've got to help people grow.'
"As I walk through the scenes, watch the costumes move, and listen to the lines of the powerful, the weak, the rich, the poor; I look at the leads with less awe than most, and at the spear-carriers with more.'"
So the next time you're doubting your contribution, your role, your impact or your value, I hope you'll think of those singers in the last seats of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Your voice too is needed; keep on singing!
It has been over three weeks since the earthquake that started this disastrous period in Japan. And it appears that it won't be over for some time. It is likely that eventually it will grow weak in our memories except for those that are living it and worried about their loved ones. Isn't that the American way to move on to the next big news bite?
Starting with an earthquake on March 11 followed by a tsunami and then an extended nuclear reactor catastrophe life hasn't been so precarious and precious for the Japanese since WWII. This time our country is not inflicting war damage but is providing help and succor for our friends.
My thoughts have turned to two Japanese students that we had in our home a few years ago for Christmas. My nephew and his family are in Japan as well and their family dreams of a home and job teeter on the edge with all the destruction and concern with the damaged nuclear reactors.
It seems that all we work for can so quickly be lost, devalued or put into its proper perspective very quickly. It seems nothing clarifies our priorities like a disaster.
The Japanese have been such a great example of calm and patience with their lot. They have been kind to each other and working together for good. As Americans we have that capability as well but we also have the violent and harmful selfishness that leads to chaos and anarchy when we have a disaster. Peacekeepers even become warmongers and gangs become even more violent as looting and selfish destruction accompanies what nature throws our way as we learned with Katrina in New Orleans. Our human potential for good is so high and can be countered with our capacity for ill.
I remember back to 1982 when I was returning home from my mission in Thailand. Me and my fellow missionary returnees were on our way home to the U.S.A. After nearly two years in Thailand living in their culture and being missionaries it was almost incomprehensible to return to our homeland of wealth and privilege. After being asked the question, "Is America a real place?" at least a hundred times while serving as a missionary it seemed somehow unfair to come home to so much. We connected with our flight in Japan for my only experience in that country. With the current troubles there it has made the short stop somehow become more memorable. As if giving me a connection to the country and its people.
Let not our hearts forget them even though we feel safe and protected here in our homeland.
Karl G. Maeser, the founder of what is today Brigham Young University, memorably taught his students concerning honor. "I have been asked what I mean by word of honor. I will tell you. Place me behind prison walls — walls of stone ever so high, ever so thick, reaching ever so far into the ground — there is a possibility that in some way or another I may be able to escape; but stand me on the floor and draw a chalk line around me and have me give my word of honor never to cross it. Can I get out of that circle? No, never! I'd die first."
BYU has been in the news a lot this year for things of honor. A young man was suspended from the basketball team at a time that was critical to that team. Many were surprised to see a program be so honorable. Some openly wondered why he couldn't be disciplined after the MWC tournament and the NCAA tournament rather than right before. He was a critical player as the first string center.
BYU however honored the agreement the young man had signed to be a student and since he is a young man on the front lines, so to speak, as the university interacts with the world he ended up with his picture and even speculations about his reason for suspension all over the news and throughout the electronic world.
Equally honorable by the University has been their including him on the bench of the team and allowing him to cheer on his teammates. The first game following his suspension he was not there but thereafter he has been there encouraging his teammates dressed in shirt and tie.
Michael Otterson, who heads the public affairs department for the LDS Church (which also sponsors BYU) wrote: "BYU isn't going to throw this young man aside. Ultimately, the honor code is as much about the individual as the team or the school. Brandon Davies is more than a trending topic on Google. He is a young man full of energy, talent and opportunity, all of which remain present as he moves through what is undoubtedly a difficult time in his life. While this one mistake may redirect his life for a time, it does not define who he is. Those who care for him, including his church leaders, are reaching out to help, guide and support. Friends, family and true fans likewise. There are a lot of people at BYU who will do all they can to help Brandon get through this trial in his life and come out on top. He isn't just an athlete, but a child of God. No one knows yet how that will happen, but I do know that they will do everything they can to make it work and help him put all this behind him."
BYU not only honors the code but honors the students by encouraging and helping them to grow and live by the standard that they have agreed on. So while accountability and consequences exist when the honor code is broken, love and compassion encourage repentance and growth with a return to the honor code.
BYU has also played honorably in the NCAA tournament. This time meaning they have played well and advanced in the tournament to the "sweet 16" for the first time in 30 years. As one sports writer has commented about their success saying, "BYU had more Jimmer and more glimmer, particularly in the second half, to shoot Gonzaga out of the gymmer." That of course uses the new word Jimmer which is in addition to being BYU's star player has now come to mean more glitz, or athletic play. Gonzaga was the team they beat to get into the sweet 16 and will likely be their main rival next year as they move into the WCC conference for basketball.
Good job by BYU in not only their play but also in their honorable standing for what is right.
Additionally if you are interested in a video about Jimmer look at the following videos. The first is the original and the second the focus is on the song, the shirt and the singers rather than Jimmer Fredette. Enjoy!
So there I was sitting on the couch with my youngest daughter. She was a little teary eyed and seemed a bit nervous. "Dad, there is something I need to tell you." So I paid attention. She said that earlier in the evening she had been angry and hurting and had said to those around her, "I hate my Dad". "But", she said now, "I really love you."
I laughed and told her that I had certainly felt that way about my parents at times when I was young. As I look back I think what I may have hated was that they knew what to do when I didn't and I needed their help. Many times that was a comfort, but there were times in my life that I wanted to be grown and totally responsible for myself long before I was ready to do so. Consequently I hated not being able to be what I wanted and in a funny way glad that I had them to help or set me straight as the circumstances required.
I'm guessing that is what she was feeling. You see earlier in the evening she had missed the last step at a friend's house and we found out later had broken her foot. Even later we found out she had chipped her bone and strained and maybe torn some tendons. So she was on her backside at the bottom of the stairs with friends to help and we weren't there. The friends called and said she wouldn't budge that she was hurt too much and so forth. So I ask to talk to her.
"Do you want to come home or do you want the emergency crew to pick you up and take you to the ER where they will keep you much of the night as they determine what needs to be done?" "Home" she said. "Then you need to accept the help and get into the car and get home where I can look at your leg/foot/ankle and we can determine what to do". I made it simple for her, not pleasant but simple and maybe I did it in a way that lacked compassion. But it got her moving and she was soon home.
So now you have the story. Child hurts self. Dad tells it like it is to get things moving. Child gets home and realizes that although she doesn't like the method she likes the results and realizes that she loves her Dad and she's glad to be safe at home.
It is nice to be loved even if you were hated just a few minutes earlier.
It still strikes me as odd how those feelings seem to be so close together. Almost like the only people we can hate are those we love because the others...well we just don't have that strong of feelings for them. I am glad my daughter can love so quickly after going through something unpleasant. And glad that I can laugh and remember my youth enough to understand.
I'm always impressed by those who don't give up when it would be so much easier to do so. This short little video is an example of a young woman who didn't give up:
