ForeverWandering.com

So bear with me as I try to put my thoughts in the past few days into words, but it isn’t always easy.

On this day, May 22, 1990, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I am 32, and have lived 21 of those with diabetes.

While I would never wish diabetes on anyone else, I celebrate this day. I’m a person who doesn’t like it (I don’t get angry, just don’t like it) when someone says “I wish you never had to go through that” or “I wish I could take it away from you.” My perspective on diabetes is that…I’ve been blessed with it.

Other than a wonderful addiction to Diet Mountain Dew (best drink on Earth), many things in my life are direct result of having diabetes…my wife , kids, confidence, sense of “wandering with a purpose,” hundreds of friendships with others with diabetes, a career where I get to work and play with both a part of the job description, a shared bond of diabetes with my sister – and did I mention the introduction to the wonderful beverage of Diet Mt. Dew? I don’t believe in coincidence, and as a Christian, I don’t think that God gives anything that we cannot handle. Diabetes is something that I have handled, and continue to handle, and use as a gift. This doesn’t mean I don’t have my bad days…my “burnout” days. But those days are outnumbered 100 to 1 by the good days. Not too bad to me when I imagine the unhealthy person I could have been without diabetes, or life without Sarah (who I don’t believe I would have met without diabetes) and, as a result, Josiah and Susan. I wouldn’t trade those things away.

So I’m looking forward to another 21 years…and much more. In celebration, I plan on having…Diet Mt. Dew. Maybe even a couple. Hey, why change a good thing?

It has taken me quite a while to put the thoughts and emotions from the past month into words.  And, as you can tell from the title (for all 2 of you who might read this), I don’t think I can do this in just one post.

One month ago today my job ended at The Barton Center.  For three-and-a-half years as the Camp Joslin Director, and two with all the camps, it was my home.  Both literally and figuratively.  Working there one minute, and not the next was a very confusing, emotional parting at first…which then downgraded into just plain emotional.  And while the rational part of me has now accepted that (and believes it to be the best thing for me), there are still those occasional “please leave me alone” emotional spots.  I’ve crossed through that event horizon from one world into another (imagine the “Stargate” television series, walking through the gate…or rather being pushed through it).  As the website title (not to mention the post title) implies, I have often thought of myself as a wanderer with a purpose.  I usually have a pretty good sense of direction.  And only at a few times now do I find myself thinking I’m lost…wandering aimlessly…instead of wandering with a goal in mind.

As I was thinking tonight about the past month I took a look at my blog post from March 20, 2005, when I left my hospital lab job and my home camp, Camp Seale Harris, in Alabama.  While I wasn’t at Camp Joslin, Clara Barton Camp, or the Day Camps for 15 years like I was at CSH, they have all been homes for me.  They have all allowed me to actually enjoy my work for the majority of the time, which is more than some people can say about their careers/jobs.  They all allowed diabetes to be a part of my work, and not just a part of who I was at that time.

I quote from my blog post in 2005 — “Because of it [my diabetes] and His grace, I am able to provide an environment where my wife and soon-to-be-son will, along with myself, grow spiritually as well as professionally.”  And you know what?  I believe that all of that happened.  I even got a daughter out of it, as well. 

So…another era of my life has ended.  As with the last one, it is scary.  But when I’m not in one of my now-occasional emotional points, I am excited about the unknown next step.  I (now) truly hope that I will still be in diabetes camping but that is up to God’s guidance and my perserverance and patience.

I’d be foolish and a liar if I told you that I wasn’t also thinking about the people that I have been blessed and honored to meet over the last five plus years through these camps.  I’ve shared quite a few laughs, tears and serious moments with quite a few people.  But I think I’ll save that for another evening’s post…

So until then, good night all.  I think I may have rambled enough for tonight…Happy Thanksgiving!

Another camp ending has come and gone, and even though the season doesn’t officially end until next weekend with the end of two programs I am in one of my conflicted bittersweet moods.

This summer has been one of the toughest of both my personal and professional lives. It has been composed of being away from my wife and kids for a month, the death of a good friend from camp, and a couple of other things that I’d rather not mention here yet. Add a heaping of self-doubt and I’ve got myself a…difficult summer.

But that’s not to say that the season didn’t have its good points. As always, the time I got to spend with campers and staff was awesome. It was also one of the best summers I’ve had as far as quality and dedication of staff.

I compare this summer to a really good movie. Like the Lord of the Rings trilogy. It is a great series filled with joy, heartache, laughter, sadness, action, and rest. And while it seems that, at times, that you never want it to end there are times that you wish it could be over. Inevitably, however, no matter what you wish for — it will end. It is a sad thing for the end to come but you find solace in the fact that it was a happy ending.

That is where I am now. The season is coming to an end and there is nothing I can do to change that. As with a couple of other things connected to that — I am a conflicted man (and probably will be for the near future). I am watching the ship sail out and wondering what adventures await me as I stand on shore. I know they shall be grand adventures, but I sometimes wonder what the people on that ship will experience.

So the current adventure is over. After watching the ship sail into the west and the sunset, I find myself wiping away the tears of sadness, turning around and walking to the new sunrise that I know will be approaching after a while. It just means a bit of traveling and wandering through the nighttime.

ad astra per aspera — “a rough road leads to the stars”
“not all who wander are lost” — J.R.R Tolkien