Dear One,
It's the 10th anniversary of 9/11/2001 today. For you, this is an event with no personal memories. All that you learn about what happened that day will be through history books, video or audio clips, or the stories of friends and family who experienced that time first-hand. I hope you will ask for those stories, that you will seek out information and understanding about this event and how it shaped the world and culture that is all you've ever known. The world was a different place before that morning.
Through the eyes of hindsight, you may wonder why events leading up to that terrible day went unheeded. We've all asked that question, I think. Whatever the answer, it doesn't change what happened. Focus instead on the heroism, selflessness and resilience (all good words for you to look up) that are part of every 9/11 story you will hear.
Look for God in what you hear too. Look for him in the 70 plus people saved from the 88th & 89th floors of the WTC North Tower by two men who themselves didn't make it out of the building before it fell. Look for Him among the small group of firefighters who stopped--knowing the North Tower would collapse any moment--to help a woman whose slow descent down the stairs miraculously (another wonderful word) allowed them to survive in a tiny section of stairwell when the building came down. Look for Him in the impossibly brave actions of common people on a plane who knew they were going to die, but refused to be used as a missile to kill others.
I wish the story of my experience that day was remarkable in some way. But it isn't. However, on the chance you might find it illuminating, I will share it here with you. I was just beginning my 2nd year at the University of Maine at Farmington, a small school in a small town in the mountains of western Maine. Penniless college students, my roommate & I didn't have money for cable TV, so I didn't know anything about the attacks until I went to a Health lecture class at 12:30 pm that afternoon. It was a Tuesday and I walked through the Student Center on campus, thinking nothing of all the young men crowded around the big screen TV. They were often gathered there to watch ESPN highlights of the previous night's Patriots' game. But when I got to the large lecture hall where my class was held, students were all clustered in seats, talking with wide eyes. Some were tearing up. I looked at them quizzically but no one explained, so I got out my text and notes and prepared for the lecture.
Then the professor, a small, dark-haired woman with a clipped southern accent, came out and began speaking. Instead of a lecture, she made several sweeping but ambiguous (definitely look this one up!) references to "what happened today" and "today's events". I waited for her to explain what she was talking about but she never got specific. Students asked her questions that seemed very strange to me. What will happen now? How are they handling this? Are they sure there aren't any more? The professor tried to answer these and other questions that made no sense to me. She was obviously trying to keep people calm. I wondered if something had happened on campus. I asked aloud, to no in particular, what they were talking about. But no one near me answered.
Finally, I raised my hand. The professor called on me and I said, "I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you're talking about. What happened?"
She looked at me strangely and said, "Two planes flew into the World Trade Center this morning."
I thought at first this was some kind of military fighter accident or air show disaster. But students began taking about commercial passenger jets and something else happening at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. After that, I sat there, feeling nothing. I couldn't get my head around that. It seemed completely surreal, like fiction or some sort of bizarre dream you want to shake off upon awakening.
The professor dismissed us early and I walked back through the Student Center, noticing this time the crowd staring intently at the big screen TV, watching repeated images of the Twin Towers being hit, collapsing and of the Pentagon on fire. A young couple, whose names I knew, stood there silently. She was weeping, holding her little toy dog in a pink harness close to her chest.
After that, I went home to change. I was scheduled to work in the school cafeteria that night. As I came into work, I was immediately overwhelmed by the tension in the air. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on feeding the 2,500 students expected for dinner. Afternoon classes had been canceled and many students had opted to go home for the night, so the actual count was much less. The Sun Journal, one of the local newspapers, put out a late edition on the attacks and a stack of them were dropped off at the Student Center. I went out and got a few, passing them out to co-workers and fellow students working that night. I couldn't believe the photos I saw in the paper and kept sneaking into a side room off the serving line to peek at the stories.
Someone said there was a girl from Massachusetts on campus whose father was rumored to be a commercial airline pilot on one of the planes that hit the towers. I don't know if that was true. A fellow student working with me was just out of the army and had friends stationed at the Pentagon. He was angry and worried, not knowing what may have happened to them. I got out of work as soon as possible, not staying to eat with the others. Instead, I went home and called my Mom. We talked for a long time about what happened and what it all meant. I felt very alone being so far from home. Later, we found out that one of the terrorists had entered the country through our lovely, quiet Portland Jetport. He then flew on to New York.
I was supposed to fly home to Illinois two days after Sept. 11th for a wedding. I made repeated calls to the airline to see if my flight was canceled. On the morning I was supposed to leave, my flight from Portland to Dulles, in Washington was scheduled to fly, but my connection to Chicago was canceled as no flights were going into O'hare Intl Airport. Chicago remained closed for several days. I missed the wedding but was relieved to not have to fly. That is my story.
I hope, dear one, that this account helps you understand what it felt like for the rest of the country who could do little but sit and watch what was unfolding in New York, Washington & Pennsylvania. Ask your Mom and Dad about their experiences too. Learn as much as you can about that time. Seek to understand the context of what was going on in those days. The love and courage and sacrifice you will find there are sacred things. Pray about them and ask God to show you wisdom and guide you in the way you live, knowing these things.
There will be 'Where Were You?' events in your life too. When they happen, make sure that you pass along the lessons you learn from them. Share your experience with others, however painful. Help them understand how that moment in history has defined your life and theirs. Show them the fingerprints of God that you find there.
Much love,
Aunt Green
Showing posts with label honor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label honor. Show all posts
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
On Motivation
Dearest Girl,
I've been thinking about motivation quite a bit of late. I know this is a big topic for you at the tender age of almost-two. But one day, you might find yourself wondering about it too--so I'll share with you what I think just in case I get senile down the road and forget to mention it.
Why do we do the things we do? Why do we not do certain things? What's so hard about mustering (another word for you to look up!) up enough energy and will-power to do something we know is good for us but that we've been putting off? What gets us all jazzed up to do something? Where is that moment when 'I couldn't possibly' becomes 'yes, I can!' ?
A lot of big questions, I know. At the bottom of procrastination (ask your mother) must be a certain amount of fear. What if I can't do it? What if it turns out badly? I'm not ready for this. I don't know how to go about it. I don't want to face what this really means. I just don't want to... We put whatever it is off as long as possible. Which doesn't help, of course. In fact, it kind of self-fulfills most of these concerns, often causing bigger problems. So, how do we get the gumption to get up & go? What pushes us forward?
The answer is that depends. Sometimes it's discomfort. For example, just before the summer of 1998, a silly boy away at college broke my heart over the phone. Well, I knew in just a couple weeks school would end and he'd be back in town. The idea of running into him all over town that summer made me cringe. So, when my food service job offered opportunities for us to go and cook at girl scout camps over the summer, I jumped at the chance to be somewhere else. Me--the girl who'd never been away from home for more than a couple weeks at a time, who didn't have a car and who didn't know anything about camping was going to spend the summer two and a half hours from home down in Peoria, IL with a camp full of complete strangers.
When my mother and aunt saw the screened shack I would be living in and the fist-sized, eight-legged current occupants, they almost refused to leave me there. But, in the end, they removed the wild occupants and decided they would not forbid me to stay. My first night at Camp Tapawingo was just flat out creepy. My boss was not yet staying on site and my coworker-to-be was not due to arrive until the next day, so I was all alone, attempting to sleep in a creaky shack in the woods, where the nearest help was out of earshot, no matter how loud I might scream. I didn't sleep well.
But the next day, after I spent hours cleaning and scrubbing the old camp kitchen, my boss arrived with my new coworker, a quiet (only at first) girl from Oklahoma with brown, curly hair, who talked about 'dillers' on the road side and turned out to be your mother. The rest, of course, is history. Thank goodness for that idiot boy who broke my heart--without him, I'd never have gone to have an adventure living in the Treehouse with my best friend!
While that time it worked out beautifully, and necessity is often the mother of invention, being motivated solely by discomfort is probably not the best way to go about things. So, then what else motivates us? What motivates us to try something new for the pure joy of it? What pushes us to take a risk and start a business doing something we love and excel at? What's at the heart of a burning desire to serve our country, climb Mt. Everest, or be a First Responder who charges into burning buildings to save lives? You may hear people talk about a 'calling' to do these things. They just knew this is what they were supposed to do.
We will talk about callings and purpose in relation to God's plan for your life another time. For now, let's just say that God created each of us to be special and unique and He has a plan for you. So, you might be motivated to do something for others that fulfills His plan because you love Him for the amazing way He loves you! You might want to do something challenging because it could bring great rewards or you'd feel great if you accomplished that. Or, maybe you do something just because you know in your heart it is the right thing to do--this is called integrity. All of these are wonderful reasons (motivations) to do something. Often, they overlap and you might do a good or great thing for all these reasons.
The important thing to remember, dear girl, is always ask yourself what is your real motivation for doing (or not doing) this? Recognizing what's behind the choices and decisions you make allows you to decide if that choice really represents what you believe in and how you want to live your life. It can be scary to pick up that rock and look underneath at the real motivation. Sometimes it isn't pretty, but by facing it and seeing that fear or issue for what it really is, you can choose to act in a way that honors God and your relationship with Him. And that will bring you a life of wonder and great love.
Sleep tight, dear one.
Much Love,
Aunt Green
I've been thinking about motivation quite a bit of late. I know this is a big topic for you at the tender age of almost-two. But one day, you might find yourself wondering about it too--so I'll share with you what I think just in case I get senile down the road and forget to mention it.
Why do we do the things we do? Why do we not do certain things? What's so hard about mustering (another word for you to look up!) up enough energy and will-power to do something we know is good for us but that we've been putting off? What gets us all jazzed up to do something? Where is that moment when 'I couldn't possibly' becomes 'yes, I can!' ?
A lot of big questions, I know. At the bottom of procrastination (ask your mother) must be a certain amount of fear. What if I can't do it? What if it turns out badly? I'm not ready for this. I don't know how to go about it. I don't want to face what this really means. I just don't want to... We put whatever it is off as long as possible. Which doesn't help, of course. In fact, it kind of self-fulfills most of these concerns, often causing bigger problems. So, how do we get the gumption to get up & go? What pushes us forward?
The answer is that depends. Sometimes it's discomfort. For example, just before the summer of 1998, a silly boy away at college broke my heart over the phone. Well, I knew in just a couple weeks school would end and he'd be back in town. The idea of running into him all over town that summer made me cringe. So, when my food service job offered opportunities for us to go and cook at girl scout camps over the summer, I jumped at the chance to be somewhere else. Me--the girl who'd never been away from home for more than a couple weeks at a time, who didn't have a car and who didn't know anything about camping was going to spend the summer two and a half hours from home down in Peoria, IL with a camp full of complete strangers.
When my mother and aunt saw the screened shack I would be living in and the fist-sized, eight-legged current occupants, they almost refused to leave me there. But, in the end, they removed the wild occupants and decided they would not forbid me to stay. My first night at Camp Tapawingo was just flat out creepy. My boss was not yet staying on site and my coworker-to-be was not due to arrive until the next day, so I was all alone, attempting to sleep in a creaky shack in the woods, where the nearest help was out of earshot, no matter how loud I might scream. I didn't sleep well.
But the next day, after I spent hours cleaning and scrubbing the old camp kitchen, my boss arrived with my new coworker, a quiet (only at first) girl from Oklahoma with brown, curly hair, who talked about 'dillers' on the road side and turned out to be your mother. The rest, of course, is history. Thank goodness for that idiot boy who broke my heart--without him, I'd never have gone to have an adventure living in the Treehouse with my best friend!
While that time it worked out beautifully, and necessity is often the mother of invention, being motivated solely by discomfort is probably not the best way to go about things. So, then what else motivates us? What motivates us to try something new for the pure joy of it? What pushes us to take a risk and start a business doing something we love and excel at? What's at the heart of a burning desire to serve our country, climb Mt. Everest, or be a First Responder who charges into burning buildings to save lives? You may hear people talk about a 'calling' to do these things. They just knew this is what they were supposed to do.
We will talk about callings and purpose in relation to God's plan for your life another time. For now, let's just say that God created each of us to be special and unique and He has a plan for you. So, you might be motivated to do something for others that fulfills His plan because you love Him for the amazing way He loves you! You might want to do something challenging because it could bring great rewards or you'd feel great if you accomplished that. Or, maybe you do something just because you know in your heart it is the right thing to do--this is called integrity. All of these are wonderful reasons (motivations) to do something. Often, they overlap and you might do a good or great thing for all these reasons.
The important thing to remember, dear girl, is always ask yourself what is your real motivation for doing (or not doing) this? Recognizing what's behind the choices and decisions you make allows you to decide if that choice really represents what you believe in and how you want to live your life. It can be scary to pick up that rock and look underneath at the real motivation. Sometimes it isn't pretty, but by facing it and seeing that fear or issue for what it really is, you can choose to act in a way that honors God and your relationship with Him. And that will bring you a life of wonder and great love.
Sleep tight, dear one.
Much Love,
Aunt Green
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