So, my friends and I are all really and unfortunately obsessed with finding our husbands. Typical freshman girls, right? Thanks, college. Anyways, we've all thought we've found some guy who is worth our hearts and have, in some way or another, obsessed over, talked about, talked to, and thought about way too much. We build these beautiful little fantasies in our minds that show us getting two rings in 4 years, one for each hand. Let's just say that the Aggie ring isn't the only one on our minds. And then all of these little plans and cute thoughts and time spent involving this boy comes crashing down, normally with tears and anger and more heartbreak than we'd like to admit.
In short, the four of us came into college expecting what every girl expects: to find our husband.
But that's our plan. Our misguided, cliche, painful, wistful plan. And our plan, in the end, won't get us very far. And where it does get us will get us on the wrong path in the wrong direction. It's like we'll be going south when we're supposed to be headed northeast. It just wouldn't be right.
So what is right?
I guess the better question would be "Who is right?" and the answer is simple: God. The knower of our hearts and the writer of the eternal storybook. He penned the tale that we're living. So He knows exactly what's going to happen.
The real issue that my friends and I are coming across is actually trusting that His story is better than anything on Oprah's booklist or the Times' top 10. We can read those books; we can't read God's. It's not something you buy at Barnes and Noble. It's something that leaves you hanging and wanting more. At least, that's how we're supposed to be. Unfortunately, we have a bad habit of not thinking that it's exciting enough or that it isn't going the way it should, so we start trying to rewrite it. Ever tried to rewrite a published book? Probably didn't work out so well, right? That's because the author knew his or her plan for the story and, even if you didn't like it, that's how it was and, if it was written well, everything came together.
Let me assure you, God is a master storyteller. His stories are flawless. Everything is purposeful and nothing is an accident. Characters will come and go. Stories have high points and low points. We have to trust that everything is meant to be how it is. And when we don't know the general outline of the story, it's hard to trust that everything will come together.
But it will.
God has this beautiful story for us that He made specifically for everyone.
The hard part is trusting that His is perfect and our's is not.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
So, who's on the horse?
Cast your minds back, ladies, to your Disney days. Remember that handsome prince and how he always had a horse and he rode in and saved the day for the damsel-in-distress? Remember wanting to be the princess/damsel and suddenly really liking horses and boys who rode them? The man on the horse was two things: the love of your life and your rescuer. This post is going to focus more on the latter because I really don't have the desire to express my intense desire for a husband right now (thanks but no thanks).
What I want to focus on is the fact that the man on the horse is the rescuer. You're in trouble, maybe some crazy woman with too much makeup poisoned your apple or maybe your mom wants to keep you locked away because you have great hair. Regardless of your situation, you need someone to come save you because you really can't rescue yourself. The situation is beyond your control. You can do absolutely nothing about it but something has got to happen or else you're going to come completely undone. And, frankly, you're far too precious to not be saved.
So here's my question: who do you turn to when your world is falling apart?
Your answers may vary. Friends, parents, siblings, mentors, etc. Personally, I go straight to my mom and close friends. My mom is a phone call away and my friends are literally right across the hall. And I can cry to them and they'll hold me and talk to me and love me and tell me that everything is okay. But the sad truth is that, while they say that everything will work itself out, they can't do anything about it either. They all may look like the valiant hero, but there is literally only one person/being who can take your hand and pull you on the horse and ride into the sunset-streaked horizon, leaving the danger far behind.
And that, my friends, is Jesus Christ.
The thing is, you can't do anything to earn this. He braves the battle because He loves you. And He doesn't come at your every beckoning. He comes when the time is right for Him and, ultimately, for you. After all, you're the one who got yourself in that situation anyway. Only when you are ready will Jesus come and pull you out of the hole you fell into.
To clear some possible confusion, Christ never leaves us. Ever. But He will only pick you up and carry you off when you are ready and He saves the day when the time is right. He won't fix all your problems. But He will, without fail, save you. His infinite love to you won't falter even for a second and He will happily pull you out of the pit.
Turning to Him with all of your issues is the answer. He's the guy on the horse, coming to save the day. But you have to keep faith that He's coming, even in the darkest moments. He's coming. Be patient.
What I want to focus on is the fact that the man on the horse is the rescuer. You're in trouble, maybe some crazy woman with too much makeup poisoned your apple or maybe your mom wants to keep you locked away because you have great hair. Regardless of your situation, you need someone to come save you because you really can't rescue yourself. The situation is beyond your control. You can do absolutely nothing about it but something has got to happen or else you're going to come completely undone. And, frankly, you're far too precious to not be saved.
So here's my question: who do you turn to when your world is falling apart?
Your answers may vary. Friends, parents, siblings, mentors, etc. Personally, I go straight to my mom and close friends. My mom is a phone call away and my friends are literally right across the hall. And I can cry to them and they'll hold me and talk to me and love me and tell me that everything is okay. But the sad truth is that, while they say that everything will work itself out, they can't do anything about it either. They all may look like the valiant hero, but there is literally only one person/being who can take your hand and pull you on the horse and ride into the sunset-streaked horizon, leaving the danger far behind.
And that, my friends, is Jesus Christ.
The thing is, you can't do anything to earn this. He braves the battle because He loves you. And He doesn't come at your every beckoning. He comes when the time is right for Him and, ultimately, for you. After all, you're the one who got yourself in that situation anyway. Only when you are ready will Jesus come and pull you out of the hole you fell into.
To clear some possible confusion, Christ never leaves us. Ever. But He will only pick you up and carry you off when you are ready and He saves the day when the time is right. He won't fix all your problems. But He will, without fail, save you. His infinite love to you won't falter even for a second and He will happily pull you out of the pit.
Turning to Him with all of your issues is the answer. He's the guy on the horse, coming to save the day. But you have to keep faith that He's coming, even in the darkest moments. He's coming. Be patient.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
The simple things in life
"Tomorrow I'm going to get the new Rick Riordan book and buy the Lion King on DVD!" I exclaimed yesterday to my friend Ben, to which he promptly announced that it sounded like the dream day of a six-year-old.
I'm so misunderstood.
But today (well, I guess technically it was yesterday, but we'll just say today [Tuesday]) was a really spectacular day. I got to sleep in a little bit, did some studying, did most of my homework, and headed to lunch and class. I rocked my history test (I think) and marched back to my room to finish the rest of my homework. After that, I watched my boys clinch the American League West championship for the second year in a row--go Rangers! I'm so proud of them.
Ben and I both needed to run errands, so we headed over to my car out in Narnia (not really, but it's pretty dang far away). I acquired the latest "Heroes of Olympus" book, Son of Neptune, and was very happy with myself. Call me quirky. Then we went to Target because I wanted to get the Lion King before the Disney Vault inhaled it again and Ben needed a calculator.
Then it was Breakaway time. A&M owns all with it's amazing Bible study on campus. It's such a blessing to be able to proclaim my faith proudly and boldly. Then I ate dinner with sweet friends, had a Skype with a friend, and then buried my nose into the book, hauling through 150 pages of it (out of 521). I expect to be done by Thursday evening. Unfortunately, school doesn't stop because a new book comes out and I still have tests that need to be studied for.
INTENSE NERDINESS STARTS HERE.
The only "bad" part of my day was when I started crying because the main character who I watched grow up in the earlier series doesn't remember anything about himself. It is devastating. This kid is one of my favorite book characters of all time and he doesn't even remember who he is.
Here's my critique: Rick Riordan should have had two series going at the same time. One that focused on the Greek camp and one that focused on the Roman camp, the books coming out about six months apart from each other. That way readers could know both the main characters, Percy and Jason, well and feel for them more. Because right now, all readers are going to lean more towards sympathizing for Percy because we know him so much better. Not to say we don't like Jason; we just know Percy because we saw him go from the "There-is-no-way-my-dad-is-a-Greek-god" to the leader of his camp. We just met Jason at the peak of his awesomeness and didn't see the journey that got him there. What's the saying? The journey is more fun than the result? I would say that's a fair statement about these books.
Anyway, that's my two cents. Take them or leave them.
Yes, this is what I do at 1 in the morning: analyze book series intended for 12-year-olds. Don't you dare judge me.
I'm so misunderstood.
But today (well, I guess technically it was yesterday, but we'll just say today [Tuesday]) was a really spectacular day. I got to sleep in a little bit, did some studying, did most of my homework, and headed to lunch and class. I rocked my history test (I think) and marched back to my room to finish the rest of my homework. After that, I watched my boys clinch the American League West championship for the second year in a row--go Rangers! I'm so proud of them.
Ben and I both needed to run errands, so we headed over to my car out in Narnia (not really, but it's pretty dang far away). I acquired the latest "Heroes of Olympus" book, Son of Neptune, and was very happy with myself. Call me quirky. Then we went to Target because I wanted to get the Lion King before the Disney Vault inhaled it again and Ben needed a calculator.
Then it was Breakaway time. A&M owns all with it's amazing Bible study on campus. It's such a blessing to be able to proclaim my faith proudly and boldly. Then I ate dinner with sweet friends, had a Skype with a friend, and then buried my nose into the book, hauling through 150 pages of it (out of 521). I expect to be done by Thursday evening. Unfortunately, school doesn't stop because a new book comes out and I still have tests that need to be studied for.
INTENSE NERDINESS STARTS HERE.
The only "bad" part of my day was when I started crying because the main character who I watched grow up in the earlier series doesn't remember anything about himself. It is devastating. This kid is one of my favorite book characters of all time and he doesn't even remember who he is.
Here's my critique: Rick Riordan should have had two series going at the same time. One that focused on the Greek camp and one that focused on the Roman camp, the books coming out about six months apart from each other. That way readers could know both the main characters, Percy and Jason, well and feel for them more. Because right now, all readers are going to lean more towards sympathizing for Percy because we know him so much better. Not to say we don't like Jason; we just know Percy because we saw him go from the "There-is-no-way-my-dad-is-a-Greek-god" to the leader of his camp. We just met Jason at the peak of his awesomeness and didn't see the journey that got him there. What's the saying? The journey is more fun than the result? I would say that's a fair statement about these books.
Anyway, that's my two cents. Take them or leave them.
Yes, this is what I do at 1 in the morning: analyze book series intended for 12-year-olds. Don't you dare judge me.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Post-season, books, jobs, and sickness
Dear MLB post-season: Meet the Rangers. Oh, you've already met? That's right. Sorry for my mistake. I'm still not used to my main men OWNING. I plan on them transcending the "3rd time's the charm" cliche. I mean, who needs 3 tries when you win it all in 2? Your thoughtful fan, Linley.
Yes, America/world, it's happening again. My favorite, favorite celebrities are marching into the post- season with a nice little lead. No wildcard for them--they earned it all. I'm so proud of my Rangers. They are seriously amazing and I love them so much. So claws, antlers...and whatever that cobra thing is. But they can rock it and for that I am grateful. Thank you boys for giving Texas pro-sports a good name because we know that Jerry isn't doing it for us.
In one week, The Son of Neptune debuts into the world. That's right, fellow nerds, Rick Riordan's second installment of the "Heroes of Olympus" series hits the stores and I plan to ride my bike over to my car (yeah, my car is parked that far away...ugh) and get over to Barnes and Noble...right after my history test. It is a blessing indeed that my two tests next week fall on Monday and Tuesday so the rest of my day can be spent in Greek/Roman mythology. And, sorry Dr. Brooks, but mythology is way more interesting than the Puritans and "Common Sense". Personal preference; don't be offended. After reading the released first chapter months ago, I've been awaiting this day May. And it's so close to me I can practically feel the paper in my fingers. Don't judge me and my nerdiness. I embrace it wholeheartedly.
So, being a Pine Cove counselor has been my dream since the day I stepped foot onto that camp... 5 summers ago. Yesterday, I interviewed to be a counselor (when did I get this old?). I was nervous out of my mind and it sounded like I was going to cry the whole time because my voice was all janked up from me hollering my brains out at the football game on Saturday, but I wasn't. Except for when she asked about my most traumatic event (the death of my grandfather). Then I kind of got choked up. Otherwise though, I was good. After my interview, I went back to my dorm and was about to head upstairs when I saw the Sky Ranch table. Sky Ranch and Pine Cove are very similar--both awesome youth Christian camps who exist to serve and minister. On a whim, I stopped and talked to the guy at the table and ended up signing up for an interview the next morning (this morning). I applied online last night and had my interview and it was fantastic. And if both camps offer me a job, I honestly don't know which one I would choose. They both seemed so solid and amazing and it would be an honor to be one of the "cool counselors" for their camps. But we'll see what God's got in store for me. He'll provide what He wants me doing this summer and I'm pumped to see what it is.
But major bummer: I'm sick. Headache, weak, congested nose and throat, stomach not happy with me. The works. I think I'm just exhausted. School and staying up late has finally gotten a strong hold on me and now it's time for this girl to take some Advil sinus medicine and sleep until the cows come home... or when my alarm goes off. I'm going home this weekend (yippee!) and will be all doctored up and rest in my big bed (though my school bed is pretty comfy too). I also think a reason for my sickness was that I ran around in the rain last night. That couldn't have been too helpful. Darn thunderstorm. We need the rain, but couldn't it have waited until I was back in my dorm? Apparently not. So now my bike is still all the way across campus and I couldn't go to Breakaway tonight because of my sickness. Ick. Not fun.
So that's a nice update on my life, world. Sorry I haven't been blogging much. I've got notes to write, homework to do, people to Facebook stalk...it's a busy life I lead. But I'll try to keep you posted.
Yes, America/world, it's happening again. My favorite, favorite celebrities are marching into the post- season with a nice little lead. No wildcard for them--they earned it all. I'm so proud of my Rangers. They are seriously amazing and I love them so much. So claws, antlers...and whatever that cobra thing is. But they can rock it and for that I am grateful. Thank you boys for giving Texas pro-sports a good name because we know that Jerry isn't doing it for us.
In one week, The Son of Neptune debuts into the world. That's right, fellow nerds, Rick Riordan's second installment of the "Heroes of Olympus" series hits the stores and I plan to ride my bike over to my car (yeah, my car is parked that far away...ugh) and get over to Barnes and Noble...right after my history test. It is a blessing indeed that my two tests next week fall on Monday and Tuesday so the rest of my day can be spent in Greek/Roman mythology. And, sorry Dr. Brooks, but mythology is way more interesting than the Puritans and "Common Sense". Personal preference; don't be offended. After reading the released first chapter months ago, I've been awaiting this day May. And it's so close to me I can practically feel the paper in my fingers. Don't judge me and my nerdiness. I embrace it wholeheartedly.
So, being a Pine Cove counselor has been my dream since the day I stepped foot onto that camp... 5 summers ago. Yesterday, I interviewed to be a counselor (when did I get this old?). I was nervous out of my mind and it sounded like I was going to cry the whole time because my voice was all janked up from me hollering my brains out at the football game on Saturday, but I wasn't. Except for when she asked about my most traumatic event (the death of my grandfather). Then I kind of got choked up. Otherwise though, I was good. After my interview, I went back to my dorm and was about to head upstairs when I saw the Sky Ranch table. Sky Ranch and Pine Cove are very similar--both awesome youth Christian camps who exist to serve and minister. On a whim, I stopped and talked to the guy at the table and ended up signing up for an interview the next morning (this morning). I applied online last night and had my interview and it was fantastic. And if both camps offer me a job, I honestly don't know which one I would choose. They both seemed so solid and amazing and it would be an honor to be one of the "cool counselors" for their camps. But we'll see what God's got in store for me. He'll provide what He wants me doing this summer and I'm pumped to see what it is.
But major bummer: I'm sick. Headache, weak, congested nose and throat, stomach not happy with me. The works. I think I'm just exhausted. School and staying up late has finally gotten a strong hold on me and now it's time for this girl to take some Advil sinus medicine and sleep until the cows come home... or when my alarm goes off. I'm going home this weekend (yippee!) and will be all doctored up and rest in my big bed (though my school bed is pretty comfy too). I also think a reason for my sickness was that I ran around in the rain last night. That couldn't have been too helpful. Darn thunderstorm. We need the rain, but couldn't it have waited until I was back in my dorm? Apparently not. So now my bike is still all the way across campus and I couldn't go to Breakaway tonight because of my sickness. Ick. Not fun.
So that's a nice update on my life, world. Sorry I haven't been blogging much. I've got notes to write, homework to do, people to Facebook stalk...it's a busy life I lead. But I'll try to keep you posted.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Tests...and other thoughts
So, today is Thursday. It's the first day of autumn (the autumnal equinox...thank you, astronomy) and, in College Station, it's going to be a pleasant, fall-y 94 degrees outside. The pleasures of humidity and Texas.
I have my astronomy test today and, from a knowledge standpoint, I got this. I get all of it. I could tell you really strange, irrelevant facts about the solar system and it would be great fun. But the math part of it? Yeah, no. I have no idea what I'm doing on that standpoint. Some things are pretty straightforward and I'll have my formula sheet, but I honestly don't know what some of the variables stand for. So that's going to be a hurtle I'm going to have to jump over. But I'll probably end up stumbling over it, falling on my face, and losing. I really, really hate math. Memorize or reason through something? I'm your girl. Tell you how to find the mass of a star a bajillion lightyears away? No thank you.
But my day doesn't end with my astronomy test. Nope. Afterward, I have to go straight to my history class, across campus and really annoyingly close to my dorm/my bed, and sit and be bored out of my mind for 75 minutes. Great professor, but I already know American history. Thanks, and gig 'em. After history, I go back to the astronomy building out in kingdom come, just short of five and a half zillion miles from my dorm/civilization for a two hour lab that won't set me free until 6:00pm. And when I get that lab notebook checked off, I will get on my little maroon Shwinn and haul across campus like there's no tomorrow. At 7, I'm meeting friends for dinner at the best dining hall on campus and when I get home from that, I get my reward.
Castle, Survivor, possibly Pan Am and CSI, Facebook, Twitter, and Skype. I have grounded myself from all of my favorite things (except for the Rangers, I watched them win last night after I'd done some major studying) so I could get work done (and I was largely successful). No social networking was a killer when it was so available, but it was by sheer will power alone that I did it and was able to study. WIN!
Later, I'll post some revelations I had while studying/stressing/walking across campus/at Breakaway/at ASC. But right now, astronomy beckons my name once again.
I have my astronomy test today and, from a knowledge standpoint, I got this. I get all of it. I could tell you really strange, irrelevant facts about the solar system and it would be great fun. But the math part of it? Yeah, no. I have no idea what I'm doing on that standpoint. Some things are pretty straightforward and I'll have my formula sheet, but I honestly don't know what some of the variables stand for. So that's going to be a hurtle I'm going to have to jump over. But I'll probably end up stumbling over it, falling on my face, and losing. I really, really hate math. Memorize or reason through something? I'm your girl. Tell you how to find the mass of a star a bajillion lightyears away? No thank you.
But my day doesn't end with my astronomy test. Nope. Afterward, I have to go straight to my history class, across campus and really annoyingly close to my dorm/my bed, and sit and be bored out of my mind for 75 minutes. Great professor, but I already know American history. Thanks, and gig 'em. After history, I go back to the astronomy building out in kingdom come, just short of five and a half zillion miles from my dorm/civilization for a two hour lab that won't set me free until 6:00pm. And when I get that lab notebook checked off, I will get on my little maroon Shwinn and haul across campus like there's no tomorrow. At 7, I'm meeting friends for dinner at the best dining hall on campus and when I get home from that, I get my reward.
Castle, Survivor, possibly Pan Am and CSI, Facebook, Twitter, and Skype. I have grounded myself from all of my favorite things (except for the Rangers, I watched them win last night after I'd done some major studying) so I could get work done (and I was largely successful). No social networking was a killer when it was so available, but it was by sheer will power alone that I did it and was able to study. WIN!
Later, I'll post some revelations I had while studying/stressing/walking across campus/at Breakaway/at ASC. But right now, astronomy beckons my name once again.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Ben Rector, love songs, and peace
One of my favorite artists in the world just released a new album. And it is excellent. The concert of his I'm going to in October cannot come soon enough. I'm so excited. I went to one back in April and got to meet him and there is now a picture of me and two of my best friends with him on my nightstand. So, points to Ben Rector for making me swoon an impossible amount. You rock my world. And my iTunes.
His music is my dose of love songs. I'm not usually a romantic kind of girl (don't give me Nicholas Sparks or I'll probably throw it back at you) and don't get real excited for things like romance movies or romance novels. Fact of life. But music...that's an entirely different thing. Music is my thing. I build stories off of songs (my post "Run" was based off "Forever Reign" by Shane and Shane) and make playlists for my stories. That's who I am as a writer and as a girl. Reading about someone falling in love? Forget it. But hearing it sung? Sure. Because it's easier to put yourself on the receiving end of that love in a song than feeling creepy and making yourself a character in the book (which I've done, mind you). I would so much rather pretend a guy is singing Ben Rector's new song "She Is" than pretending I'm Juliet or Hermione (though being Hermione would be pretty freaking awesome). All that to say, I only let myself fantasize about being in love through music. Not so much in books or movies. It's all music. And Ben Rector has a habit of speaking to my soul.
As for the peace, well, let's just say life is starting to get crazy. And though I have a project due on Friday in geography, a project in English due on Sunday, a test in anthropology on Wednesday, a paper due in history on Thursday, and a test in astronomy on Friday, I'm feeling weirdly chill. Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to make it. And as for the boy part of my crazy, that's getting better too. After extensive prayer and lots of journaling, I've come to realize that my heart is about a bajillion times more fragile than I think it is. And literally the only One who can protect it is Jesus. And once He's got it, I'm safe. The hard part is not trying to take it back, because I'm going to want to. I'm going to want to give it to guys who don't deserve it. Christ is the only one who has the right to give that part of my heart away. He alone determines who I fall in love with. Until then, the heart is the Lord's.
Peace, love, and Ben Rector.
His music is my dose of love songs. I'm not usually a romantic kind of girl (don't give me Nicholas Sparks or I'll probably throw it back at you) and don't get real excited for things like romance movies or romance novels. Fact of life. But music...that's an entirely different thing. Music is my thing. I build stories off of songs (my post "Run" was based off "Forever Reign" by Shane and Shane) and make playlists for my stories. That's who I am as a writer and as a girl. Reading about someone falling in love? Forget it. But hearing it sung? Sure. Because it's easier to put yourself on the receiving end of that love in a song than feeling creepy and making yourself a character in the book (which I've done, mind you). I would so much rather pretend a guy is singing Ben Rector's new song "She Is" than pretending I'm Juliet or Hermione (though being Hermione would be pretty freaking awesome). All that to say, I only let myself fantasize about being in love through music. Not so much in books or movies. It's all music. And Ben Rector has a habit of speaking to my soul.
As for the peace, well, let's just say life is starting to get crazy. And though I have a project due on Friday in geography, a project in English due on Sunday, a test in anthropology on Wednesday, a paper due in history on Thursday, and a test in astronomy on Friday, I'm feeling weirdly chill. Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to make it. And as for the boy part of my crazy, that's getting better too. After extensive prayer and lots of journaling, I've come to realize that my heart is about a bajillion times more fragile than I think it is. And literally the only One who can protect it is Jesus. And once He's got it, I'm safe. The hard part is not trying to take it back, because I'm going to want to. I'm going to want to give it to guys who don't deserve it. Christ is the only one who has the right to give that part of my heart away. He alone determines who I fall in love with. Until then, the heart is the Lord's.
Peace, love, and Ben Rector.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
9/11 Post #2
When I think about it, September 11th, 2001 showed the very best and the very worst of humanity.
The people who attacked America on that day hated, absolutely hated, my nation. With a passion. They would die to prove this faith. Some of them did. They killed nearly 3,000 people who had done nothing but live in the US. They were mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, friends, husbands, and wives. They had come to work on a beautiful day in New York, expecting to leave that night and go home and come back the next day and do it all again.
Others were going to visit friends or family or go on vacation. They had made plans and packed suitcases. They were wondering what time the plane was going to land and what they were going to do when they got there. September 11th was normal all around until 8:47am.
That's when terrorists attacked some of the most iconic places in the world, reducing them to rubble within the next hour. Families were destroyed. People were throwing themselves out of windows in order to not die at the hands of a fire caused by hijackers who crashed a plane into the place they worked.
They're cowards, the hijackers. They died without names or faces. They died being absolutely hated by millions of people. They were the first casualties of war. They are the evil of the world.
But New York, America, the Earth, showed a brand of people, who unfortunately aren't acknowledged enough, that day. The heroes came out that day. They saved lives, even if it meant losing their own. Firefighters, policemen, fellow civilians all grabbed hands and dug people out and rescued those who couldn't rescue themselves. The bravery took over the cowardice on United flight 93, forcing the hijackers to crash land in a field in Pennsylvania, saving an unknown number of lives.
The raw fear of the day was swallowed and taken in stride by the incredible efforts and valor of city employees. Those people make me so proud to be an American. Their sacrifice brings tears to my eyes every time I think about it.
My dad was in New York at the time. He had a meeting in the South Tower at 10, meaning he would leave his hotel room (across Manhattan) at 9, getting to the tower at 9:30 in order to get to the 47th floor with plenty of time to prepare before his meeting.
Obviously, he never made it out of his hotel room--both towers had been hit by the time it was 9:00. He stayed in his room and was glued to the TV (similar to the rest of America), occasionally wandering over to the window to see the smoke billowing over the island.
The next day, he decided to venture out into the city. Recalling this, he said that the city was the most deserted and quietest he's ever seen. He stood in a line outside of a large building for about 8 hours to give blood. Street vendors came buy and gave them water and hotdogs. The bank across the street ordered all the people in line pizzas and paid for it all. My dad made friends with native New Yorkers and businessmen from Michigan and vacationers from California. They were all there to support the nation. At one point, the wind changed and blew back towards the city. The jet fuel smell hung in the air, ominous and saddening. For 15 minutes, the whole line of people were silent, the weight of what had happened the day before settling back on them.
America has never been the same. And I never want us to be. Americans are certainly not perfect; no one is perfect. But we came together. And we won't ever forget what happened to the Pentagon, those on flight 93, and in New York that day.
We came out on top. They served us a blow, but the American spirit stood strong and proud.
God bless the USA.
The people who attacked America on that day hated, absolutely hated, my nation. With a passion. They would die to prove this faith. Some of them did. They killed nearly 3,000 people who had done nothing but live in the US. They were mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, friends, husbands, and wives. They had come to work on a beautiful day in New York, expecting to leave that night and go home and come back the next day and do it all again.
Others were going to visit friends or family or go on vacation. They had made plans and packed suitcases. They were wondering what time the plane was going to land and what they were going to do when they got there. September 11th was normal all around until 8:47am.
That's when terrorists attacked some of the most iconic places in the world, reducing them to rubble within the next hour. Families were destroyed. People were throwing themselves out of windows in order to not die at the hands of a fire caused by hijackers who crashed a plane into the place they worked.
They're cowards, the hijackers. They died without names or faces. They died being absolutely hated by millions of people. They were the first casualties of war. They are the evil of the world.
But New York, America, the Earth, showed a brand of people, who unfortunately aren't acknowledged enough, that day. The heroes came out that day. They saved lives, even if it meant losing their own. Firefighters, policemen, fellow civilians all grabbed hands and dug people out and rescued those who couldn't rescue themselves. The bravery took over the cowardice on United flight 93, forcing the hijackers to crash land in a field in Pennsylvania, saving an unknown number of lives.
The raw fear of the day was swallowed and taken in stride by the incredible efforts and valor of city employees. Those people make me so proud to be an American. Their sacrifice brings tears to my eyes every time I think about it.
My dad was in New York at the time. He had a meeting in the South Tower at 10, meaning he would leave his hotel room (across Manhattan) at 9, getting to the tower at 9:30 in order to get to the 47th floor with plenty of time to prepare before his meeting.
Obviously, he never made it out of his hotel room--both towers had been hit by the time it was 9:00. He stayed in his room and was glued to the TV (similar to the rest of America), occasionally wandering over to the window to see the smoke billowing over the island.
The next day, he decided to venture out into the city. Recalling this, he said that the city was the most deserted and quietest he's ever seen. He stood in a line outside of a large building for about 8 hours to give blood. Street vendors came buy and gave them water and hotdogs. The bank across the street ordered all the people in line pizzas and paid for it all. My dad made friends with native New Yorkers and businessmen from Michigan and vacationers from California. They were all there to support the nation. At one point, the wind changed and blew back towards the city. The jet fuel smell hung in the air, ominous and saddening. For 15 minutes, the whole line of people were silent, the weight of what had happened the day before settling back on them.
America has never been the same. And I never want us to be. Americans are certainly not perfect; no one is perfect. But we came together. And we won't ever forget what happened to the Pentagon, those on flight 93, and in New York that day.
We came out on top. They served us a blow, but the American spirit stood strong and proud.
God bless the USA.
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