The Lamp Burns Dim

It's late. I've spent the last two days in Diabetic School -- it's where you go to learn how to manage diabetes. Yup, I'm an overweight old guy. All the things that didn't make a difference a year ago changed when I turned 50 (that would be February if you're counting). Borderline cholesterol, marginal high blood pressure, and the blood sugars that were simply a curiosity in January became a stern warning from the doctor and the old-guy cocktail: lipitor, altase, metformin and avandia. Lose 20 pounds. Reduce the stress in your life. Manage your life, don't let it take control of you. You can read about it for yourself if you want (or talk to 15 of your friends since chances are one of them is diabetic) -- http://www.diabetes.org/type-2-diabetes.jsp -- but if you're like me, you won't until the good Dr. Bruce shows you the bad news. Or the good news. It turns out I'm the captain of a team that includes medical specialists, dieticians, nurses, a psychologist, a social worker and maybe even the people that are part of my life. I wasn't even allowed to be on the team until the diabetes clicked in.

Diabetes is never cured, only managed.

Faith is a lot like diabetes. It will never really fix anything, but it is a constant part of life that is always present. It asks you to monitor and keep track of things. It invites a different level of awareness. It requires you to remember and recall things that once seemed inconsequential but are now important. Meaningful conversations about faith, like diabetes, tend to take place only among those that are persons of faith (or diabetic). And faith invites you to the table in a different way, just as you will always approach the table differently with diabetes.

But there is a carefully prepared place for you at the table.

Today's weigh-in: 225 (it must be fluid retention)