"Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point" C.S. Lewis

For most of of my peers, September 11, 2001 was a day of confusion. We watched classmates leave school without a doctor's note and grown men cry. After school our mothers did not ask us to review our spelling words or force us to eat all of our broccoli at dinner. In one morning the world was turned upside down and as a fifth grader, all I knew was that something terribly sad had happened that no one could make sense of. As more information was uncovered, I remember wondering why some bad men would want to cause so many tears to fall.

Last night I sat in the outdoor amphitheater at UVA surrounded by my peers, all of us between the ages of 8 and 11 on that September morning. We all sat still, holding candles in a glowing arc while we listened to a man who had been on the 104th floor of the South tower share his story. He recounted the horrific realization that a plane had flown into the North tower and then deciding with a group of his friends to leave the building. I sat in solemn silence listening to him tell his story, every detail morphing into the difference between life and death: They had decided against the elevators and instead chosen the stairs. At the 75th floor an announcement told them to remain inside the building but they continued their descent. Finally, they made it out.

10 years later, I have matured from a fifth grader to a third year college student and I still can't make sense of what happened that day. I still can't understand how someone could have so much hatred and do something so heinous. This is a question that I will never be able to answer but now my focus has shifted. Rather than ask the question why of the perpetrators I find myself asking how to the strength of the heroes and survivors. About 10 floors to the bottom, the speaker relived watching a swarm of men charge up the stairs past him; heroes fighting the current of fear pushing in the opposite direction. Running towards danger, towards uncertainty and for many towards death, these brave servicemen rushed in to help those trapped inside.

Though 10 more years will pass and I will still not be able to make sense of what happened that day I will have the image of men rushing into the crumbling towers as a symbol of inconceivable courage. In them we see the full embodiment of selflessness, hope and strength unknown. Because of them we can thank God everyday for this country we are blessed to call home.

worth waiting for

Sometimes I wish that letters were the only mode of correspondence, that the internet did not exist or that I had to take a horse-drawn carriage if I wanted to go to the grocery store. Sometimes I wish this, but when I think about what a world like that actually looks like I quickly change my mind.

Yesterday morning at 6 AM I got in the car with two of my friends and we drove to Williamsburg for an all day Kappa Kappa Gamma conference. After a day filled with speakers, presentations and discussion we all sat down for a nice dinner. Though the day had been fun and informative, it had no doubt been a long day and I was anxiously waiting for the end of the dinner and our queue that we could get back in the car and head home.

Somewhere between my impatience and third bite of cheesecake, an elegant older woman was welcomed to the podium and began to read from a letter that she received from the U.S. Navy. In June of 1966, her husband, a Navy pilot, had been shot down in Vietnam. They knew that he had ejected from his plane but his whereabouts and condition were unknown. Left with the grief and anxiety of not knowing what had become of her husband, she had no choice but to wait.

6 1/2 years later, he came home.

As I sat there listening to this woman's incredible story of patience, of faith and of love I began to think about anything in my life that I have ever waited 6 1/2 years for. Or better, (since at this point that is about 33% of my life...) anything that I have ever been willing to wait that long for.

I was thinking for a long time.

Whenever our computers take 5 seconds to open a page instead of 1, our cell phones can't find reception or that thing we have been waiting and hoping for for so long hasn't happened yet, we get upset and we want to fix it or leave it. And if we choose to fix it, we want it fixed now. Listening to this woman talk about her 6 1/2 years of waiting I couldn't help but think how impatient I can be; how ridiculous my frustrations are once they are put into perspective. She waited 6 1/2 years for a day to come that she was not promised, that she didn't know would ever come but could only hope for.

I don't know about you but every once in awhile I need to step back and take a breath. I need to find patience instead of frustration and I need to realize that there are so many things that are worth waiting for.

Sisterhood of the traveling hoos, dresses and... stickers.

After a perfect trip to St. John with two of my best friends and our moms, the Virginians headed home while the two Texans and two Georgians boarded a plane for Atlanta. Lamenting the fact that we had to leave the sunshine and go back to tests and writing papers, we all wished that we had one more day. 

Be careful what you wish for. 

After close to two hours of sitting on the plane, the pilot finally came on to tell us that the engine was leaking and we were not going anywhere. (I promise I don't always write about flight problems...) Eyeing the last plane departing for Atlanta out the window, we ran off the plane and headed for the ticket counter. 

Another hour later, they were not able to get us on a direct flight to Atlanta but told us that we could get on a 6:30 am flight to San Juan the next morning and connect from there. 

Exhausted and anxious to get home, we walked up to our gate the next morning to meet the same agent who printed our boarding passes now meticulously calculating the total weight of everyone's carry ons. Walking out onto the tarmac we saw why:

Two tiny 8 passenger puddle jumpers were now where a 757 had been yesterday. Not only did my head touch the ceiling of the plane but my mom looked over to see a small carrying case with a cartoon picture of a body-builder rooster on it sitting next to her (TSA approved?). The rustle of feathers and a scary looking man periodically glancing over his shoulder soon confirmed it: we were sitting next to two roosters on their way to San Juan for a cockfight. 

Not kidding. 

A thirty minute flight over the Caribbean (sound effects included) and we were in San Juan to get on a normal sized commercial airplane. At this point we were all on our second cup of coffee and were standing in line to board the plane,  laughing about the roosters and the toy plane we had just come in on when my mom looked down to see a 6 inch sticker stuck to the bottom of her shoe. So naturally her response was to turn around to the stranger behind her, stick out her foot and say "here, take this" as if it was his duty. 

Extending his own foot to step on the corner of the sticker he did. No questions asked. 

Still wondering what compelled my mom to do that, I turned around to count as this sticker (a baggage tag?) was passed by twelve people standing in line to board the plane. No one asked why they were doing this, they all just let out a little laugh as it came to their feet and turned around to pass it off to the next in line. This all went on until a man in a blue striped shirt thirteen people back killed it with a shake of his head. 

This may not be the best comparison, but as I was watching this I couldn't help but think of the movie "Pay it Forward". If you've seen it then you know what I am talking about and if you haven't, the premise of the movie is that someone does something kind for one person who then in turn does something kind for someone else and so it continues. It is basically a domino effect of kind-hearted gestures. 

Though clearly passing a sticker on can't really be classified as a benevolent act, it did produce the same "pay it forward" effect. The laughter that passed through the passengers waiting to board the plane as the sticker moved from person to person was infectious. 

This is a ridiculous example of a great concept. It's incredible the effect a small act can have on someone's day; how after canceled flights and plane rides with roosters you can find yourself in a group of people laughing over a sticker. 

"Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry" Ephesians 4:26

7:45
We don't really like being in our apartment without each other...
8:27
She was supposed to be home at 6:00...
9:15
Connecting in Atlanta can be a nightmare...
10:00
buzz buzz: "be home in 30!"


At 10:30 my roommate, Virginia, came home to tell me that one of the engines on her plane had failed and the pilot had to make an emergency landing. Not one to over exaggerate or get shaken up easily, I could feel how scary this had been for her.

We sat on the couch with a scoop of Bluebell and she told me about it; how the man sitting next to her had his pilot's license and was ready to coordinate the slide exit, how the flight attendants were in a calm frenzy to make the passengers hang up on their families and put away their cell phones and how when the plane finally came to a stop on the runway, every passenger clapped as if the contact of wheels to land was the cue that everyone knew to wait for.

It's incredible how in a moment of crisis everyone seems to unite. This feeling of solidarity is what I love so much about this country but surprisingly wasn't the most poignant image I took from Virginia's story. Though everything ended up fine (if you are scared of flying this shouldn't heighten your fear...I did a little reading and commercial planes can be fine running without one engine working properly), there was a moment that Virginia described when she really didn't know what was going to happen and she felt...

peace

Overhearing the phone calls to husbands and moms and children around her, Virginia said she initially felt the same urge to place about 100 calls. After the instinctual moment of wondering, "who do I need to call?" she felt the comfort in knowing that honestly, it didn't really matter. Everyone she loved knew that she loved them. What could be more important to say than that? There was no anxiety in wishing that she hadn't hung up the phone that way, no unspoken apology that would remain silent forever. She felt the complete peace of knowing that she was right with everyone who she cared about and that if the worst did happen, she was satisfied with how her life had been. 

Life is hectic. Too often we put Band-Aids on problems we don't want to fix, we aren't intentional with out words and we let our anger get in the way of caring about the people we love. How calming to close your eyes at night knowing that everyone who matters knows that you love them. How nice to rest in the comfort that only that peace offers. 

the culprit

As someone who is very close to their family, going to school in Virginia, a mere 1,207 miles (yes, I Googled) away from home has its drawbacks. Distance might be the only one that I can actually think of but nonetheless there are still days when I wish I could come home to mom's homemade chocolate chip cookies and advice waiting for me at the kitchen counter.

Two Thursdays ago I was feeling particularly far from home and called my sister, Jen. We speak almost daily and with iPhones, iChat and email I feel almost like I am up to speed with everyone's crazy lives but it just isn't the same as being there. After a few minutes of her telling me who refused to eat breakfast that morning and who wanted to turn their Batman cape into a permanent part of their daily wardrobe, (she has 3 little boys but don't worry you'll hear plenty more about them and my niece later) we hung up with my usual sign off of "miss you, wish you were here". But with a crazy life filled with being supermom, building a new house and starting a soccer team (for herself-not kidding) that just isn't a reality.

Unless of course, you are my sister.

So, last weekend Jen came to UVA and got to relive the exciting college days that have been replaced with the new fun of watching first steps, driving carpool and channeling creativity into new dinner recipes. We went to incredible restaurants, introduced her to my friends, walked around Charlottesville, put on sundresses and went to a beautiful vineyard (photo above), watched movies and laughed. It was the perfect weekend. 

Though she is now a mom, there are some things about being an older sister that you don't outgrow with age or even after you have your own children to sculpt and mold. Whether telling you what teachers to avoid in high school or what dress to wear to prom, older sisters are always looking out for you and my sister is no exception. Thus, the birth of the blog.

Before heading back to Texas Jen created my blog and left the "new post" page staring at me from my desk. Knowing how much I love to write, she designed and started what I probably never would have done myself. 

Whether it's your sister, another family member or a friend, sometimes you just need someone to give you a little shove in the right direction. 

And so it begins

I'm not gonna lie I have always been a little skeptical of blogs. I think that this is due to a mixture of wondering who would care to read about my life, thoughts, etc and the vulnerability associated with having my writing on the internet for anyone to see. When I think about blogging I feel a little bit like I do when I've woken up from that dream- you know, the one where you realize you are naked in the hallway in middle school and everyone is staring at you. But as someone who has always written in journals, jotted ideas on scraps of paper and put random thoughts in the "notes" app on my iPhone, I decided why not try it out? Why not start a blog? Sometimes doing what you love pushes you to get out of your comfort zone, to find yourself standing naked in a hallway until you wake up laughing. If you are reading this, hopefully there will be days when you will laugh with me too.
So here's to dreaming, to writing and to laughing about a  ♥'s content until your ♥'s content.