Treadmill Musings

As I walked to the Colvin on this freezing cold night (why am I so dumb), I saw a boy in a short sleeve shirt walking with a girl. First thought: "He's going to die." Second thought: "Oh, it looks like she's wearing his jacket." (It swallowed her.)
This made me think about the fact that no boy has offered me his coat since fourth grade, and truth be told, the boy in question didn't even like me. (It was a hard realization; I was not-so-secretly in love with him, people made fun of me, he liked a girl in the grade above us, I was heartbroken, blah blah blah. He currently goes to OU, so I obviously I don't want him anymore.)
Then, to make myself feel better, I told myself that boys in Nebraska could never legitimately offer me their coats without risking death, seeing as an Omaha winter is truly the most depressing and bone-chilling experience known to man (or maybe just this writer).
In any case, I don't need a boy's coat because I'm smart enough to know that walking outside at 10:30 at night in December requires a coat.
So, in conclusion, wear your own coat because 1) if you don't have a boy, you're walking around in the dark with no company and no coat, and that's just dumb, and 2) if you have a boy and you wear his coat and he subsequently dies of pneumonia or hypothermia, you will no longer have a boy, and goodness knows that's a fate worse than death.
Oh gosh, sounds like the Colvin's closing. I guess I should get off the treadmill now.

Puppy Love

As Thanksgiving approaches and I'm driving Homaha with my grandparents (halleluuuuuuujah), I look at the little nugget of a pup that's sitting next to me in the back seat of the car, and I realize how grateful I am for her. When I think back on how she became my baby, I can't believe I've had the privilege of being her mom for nine years and a day.

I might sound like a crazy person for talking about Emma like this, but from the beginning she has been my dog, and mine alone. When she was a puppy, she looked like a little teddy bear. Incapable of putting her down, I would constantly carry her around like a baby and pet her tummy. Accustomed to being on her back all the time, when she got older she continued to lay on her back and "swim," waiting for people to scratch her stomach like I did when she was little. My brothers think it's stupid that she still does it as an adult, but I just smile, because it will always remind me of her baby days.

She's the one who barks when people yell my name, protects me from the vacuum cleaner that's obviously alive and out to get me, and cuddles with me on cold Nebraska nights. It's amusing to watch her herd my toddler cousins when her instincts kick in, and I love that every time I bathe her she scampers around the house afterwards like she's a puppy again.

She's quirky, but that's probably what makes us perfect for each other.

I am thankful for so many things, but today I remember to be thankful for the dog that's always been there for me. Now that she's getting older, I realize I may only have a few more years with her, and that scares me. This realization makes me even more thankful for the time I've had with her, and motivates me to never take her for granted.

Emma has taught me responsibility, has protected me, and has always been there when I needed a friend. She's the best first dog I could ever have, and I'll always love her.

Recharging the Batteries

Despite the fact that I still have four whole days left of school before Thanksgiving break, one single lit paper is the only thing that separates me from home in my mind. I can't wait.

I can't wait to drive into Omaha (probably met by dreary weather), pull into my driveway, run into my house and collapse on the couch, and revel in the complete happiness of being HOME. Not Tulsa-home, not back-in-my-dorm-room-home, but Homaha. Awful and miserable in winter, yes, but home to some of the most beautiful people in my life.

I can't wait to sit at the fireplace, eat home-cooked meals, and watch random episodes of Masterpiece Theatre with my mom. I can't wait to be terrorized by my brothers and run screaming through the house as they chase me for one reason or another (no, the dynamic hasn't changed since we were little). 

I can't wait to be in the arms of my best, sweetest, funniest friends. I'm ready for dancing and catching up and giggling in basements. I'm ready to not worry about classes or meetings or papers or grades. 

Sometimes you need a break from something to fully appreciate that you have it. I love this beautiful little place where I attend school, but I'm in dire need of a break. Going home will be the perfect way to recuperate before the last three weeks of the semester, and what makes me happy is the knowledge that when I return, despite a wonderful time at home, I'll be so thankful to be back. 

Regrets: who needs 'em?

I wish I had run cross country in high school.

I really wish I had tried harder in Calc AB my senior year.

I really really wish I hadn't quit dance.

And I really really REALLY wish I hadn't driven the wrong way through the HS West parking lot one fateful night this September. (If you're ever tempted to do so because it's a nice shortcut, DON'T. A mean OSU police lady will give you a ticket, and it will be depressingly expensive.)

But whoops! Life goes on. We are where we are because of the decisions we've made in the past, but it is our choice to learn from them and make the most of our future. As my dad always says, "Attitude is a decision."

So I will run my legs off, bust my behind in seemingly impossible classes, dance to my heart's content, and go the long way around Scott-Parker-Wentz, all while giving thanks that I've been given another day to learn and grow.

Blessings > Worries

These last two weeks have been difficult.

Actually, to be honest, this entire semester has been difficult. The adjustment to new leadership positions, larger time commitments, and harder classes has taken its toll. As much as it goes against my very nature to admit it, I'm realizing that my academic pursuits this semester might not leave me as satisfied as I would hope. That's a tough realization for a girl who feels like a large part of who she is as a person is determined by her grades. Other, more internal struggles have only added to the feeling of desperation that has been ever-present recently. I feel like I have to work even harder to catch up, and I probably stress myself out even more by doing so. Simply put, I've been feeling like I'm drowning. 

And then there's the fact that I haven't gone to Mass the last two weekends or to Overflow for at least the last month, only because I feel like if I went I wouldn't complete everything I needed to accomplish. I look back on that logic and think to myself, Oh Shelby...you should have known better. 

How on Earth did I think that would do me any good? God is the one I need the most right now. I should be clinging to God even MORE in the times when I feel like my whole life is going crazy. Today I reestablished that habit; instead of listening to my normal pop-dancey playlist during my morning run, I jogged it out with Shane & Shane. It was perfect. The run didn't seem as long or as hard as usual, I got to reflect in God's great love for me...I couldn't have asked for a better start to my day. 

I never doubted God was there in these last two weeks, but I didn't take the time I should have to pray and rely on God and give myself over to God's will. The knowledge that God's love is so steadfast and faithful is such a comfort, especially when I feel like I might not be meeting the expectations of those around me, or even just the expectations I hold for myself. 

As always, my friends and family are such amazing blessings to me. I wouldn't have been able to handle all these new challenges without them. My parents especially have helped me realize that I simply need to adjust my focus and give thanks for my innumerable blessings when I begin to feel desperate and inadequate. Knowing that I worry far too much, especially about schoolwork, my mom left me with some wonderful wisdom during a phone call today: "Prepare, pray, do your best, and then let it go." Four simple steps to describe how I should go about life. My mother is brilliant.

Thinking about worry also reminded  me of Philippians 4:6, which states, "Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." In short, worry about nothing but pray about everything. I'm fairly confident it is now my life motto. 

With these things in mind, I choose to move forward.

No More Knots

Confession: arts and crafts make me anxious. I know, it's my first failure as a sorority member, but truly...when I see sequins and hot glue guns and fabric, I get overwhelmed. So instead, I knit. It's a great way to unwind after a long day, and because it's more of a precise craft, it's perfect for my left-brained, type A personality.

Last week I started a scarf for a friend, and as I was beginning to knit I realized it was getting harder and harder to pull the string from the roll of yarn I'd bought. Getting frustrated, I eventually began to tear the roll apart to make it easier on myself; this of course just made an even bigger mess of the yarn. Before I knew it I had this huge, nasty knot in front of me, and it seemed like there was no earthly way I was going to roll it into a ball fit for knitting.

At this point - cue crybaby Shelby - I was frustrated almost to the point of tears. (But please, give a girl a break; this occurred in the wee hours of the morning and I was tired, yet I stubbornly refused to go to bed. Goodness knows why.) I'm not one to let a ball of yarn bring me down, so I patiently picked through the madness and, yes, three and a half hours later, I ended up with the beauty you see below.

As I was gazing proudly upon my night's labor, a quote came to mind: 

"Everything will be okay in the end, and if it's not okay, then it's not the end."

It sounds ridiculous to apply this statement to a ball of yarn, but it brings me so much comfort when I'm faced with circumstances that are truly difficult for me to handle. I am reminded that no matter how frustrating or challenging life seems (or what kind of unusual obstacles may form in my path), situations can and will work themselves out. 


In reading this quote, despair is dispelled and hope returns. I realize that even if things aren't as good as I wish they'd be in the present moment, better times are awaiting me in the future. I am blessed to have a God that provides comfort and peace to me, and God has given me a huge network of amazing people who care for me when times are tough. It is on those bad days that I remember all these blessings and move forward with a smile, knowing that brighter days are to come, with no knotted yarn to be seen.

The Ties That Bind

Reflecting upon the last few weeks makes me thankful for my families. I use the plural form of the word because, although I love my biological family very much, they are not the only ones who love and support me. I am blessed enough to have many people in my corner who teach, challenge, and care for me every day.

My first family: two crazy brothers who drive me up the wall, make me laugh til I cry, and constantly amaze me with their wit, honesty, and loyalty to me and each other. A strong, hardworking, intelligent mother who has taught me the importance of living passionately, challenges me to be better every day, and never fails to be there when really I need her. A father who encourages me in all that I do, counsels me through my struggles, and is always teaching me about respect, patience, and love. They have known me and loved me from the beginning, and I would be nothing without them.

My Marian family: girls who grew up with me, made me feel at home, and showed me that I would be doing the world a disservice to be anyone but myself. Teachers who taught me, challenged me, guided me, and helped me grow into a young woman who values learning, character, and faith. They revealed to me my own self worth, encouraged me to have high standards and work hard towards my goals, and provided for me the best second home a high school girl could ask for.

My Stillwater family: two kind, funny, faithful, beautiful friends who filled my freshman year with giggles, moral support, and wonderful faith life discussions. Countless wonderful people in my dorm, clubs, and classes who have shared difficult teachers, days spent advertising events on Library Lawn, and a week's worth of snow days. And now, my Chi Omega girls, who immediately loved me and brought me into their family, and with whom I can't wait to spend the next three years and beyond.

I have been immensely blessed by these people and more, and each group has made me the person I am today. As they bless me each day, they make me want to be a better person; not only to make them proud, but also to reach my full potential so that I can be at my best for them and for others. The values that drive me forward today were taught to me by my families. The knowledge that they will always be there for me allows me to smile at the future, and welcome it without fear.

Maintaining Composure

Nerves. They're never too far away. Whether or not they're warranted is irrelevant; in any given situation, if you were to bet I was nervous about something, you'd probably be right. I get nervous about the normal things, like acing difficult exams or making good impressions, but then there are the silly things as well.

Like when the nerves build up the night before camp starts. This camp is one that I've attended for four years, not as a participant, but as a volunteer and staff member. I adore my job (it's one of the best parts of my summer), I'm good at working with the kids I serve, and I love my crazy, wonderful coworkers. The youth I serve are constantly teaching me more than I could ever teach them, and even on difficult days, work is a joy.

However, on a certain Sunday night in the third week of June, I found myself becoming extremely nervous in anticipation of the next day, the first day of camp. It might be because I was about to assume responsibility for the safety of other people's children (always a daunting prospect), or because I was worried about getting back into the swing of things after a year. Whatever the reason, what I needed to realize at that point was that all I could do the next day was my best, giving up my talents and energy and love to those kids and know that it was sufficient.

Nerves will be in no short supply in the upcoming weeks as I strive to impress a countless number of new faces. These girls will be asking many questions of me and picking up on little details about me that I probably won't even realize they'll notice. It's mildly terrifying to think about. Once again, what I'll have to realize on that Saturday night, the night before it all begins, is that all I can do is my best. In being myself and being honest with the girls I meet that week, I will be content in knowing I've done all I could.

Something my mom likes to tell me when she knows I'm nervous is, "You prepare as much as you can in the time beforehand, do your best when the time comes, and then lift the rest up and let God handle it, because you've already done all you can." Leave it to a mother to know exactly what to say when her child needs her; that piece of wisdom gets me through so many moments of doubt. It is such a comfort to know that God is constantly providing for me, even when I don't deserve it, and it is that providence and love that I focus on and am thankful for when my nerves are getting the best of me.