Today is the 10th anniversary of the September 11th that was tragic for all of us. It has been interesting to see how personally everyone has processed it - through conversation, on facebook, through memorials. One friend's husband wrote on her wall that he was so thankful she made it out of the towers alive so he could meet her and they could start a family. In comparison, I served alongside teenagers at church this morning that have never known life without the possibility of this trauma, fear, and hatred.
My church is in the middle of its At The Movies series and used the Flight 93 movie for this morning's sermon. It was my Sunday to go to service and I almost volunteered to stay in the nursery. I didn't know if I could handle it or I even wanted to try. I spent a year of my life in the building that plane was headed for and heard the stories of my friends that had ran as far as they could go and I just wasn't interested.
But, I'm glad I went to service. And I'm glad I sat between friends that wouldn't have thought any different if I sobbed my eyes out. I'm glad because I came out thankful. I have been in a season and God is making it clear that gratitude is what will pull me through and out of the valley.
Our pastor focused on those last phone calls from so many, and how none of them had extraneous words - they all said "I love you." He challenged us to go tell someone we love them and make sure they know because our lives are a vapor and we don't know what the next moment brings.
This truth makes me proud of my family. We are a trophy of God's grace, but we are far from perfect. I have asked God more than once why he chose to set me here in this pairing of complicated people (but let's call them beautifully complicated since we can :-) ). No matter how crazypants my immediate family has been, I don't think I've gone a day of my life without being told I was loved and wanted, and without returning the favor. In that moment in January, where we suddenly and unexpectedly watched my mom stop breathing and I pushed that nurse button to say so and the blue-scrubbed people came running, and I had to look in my dad's eyes that begged me to tell him what was happening and that his wife wasn't really gone - there wasn't anything in our family that had been left unsaid. There was no question of love.
Thankfully, we still have my mom, and despite a totaled truck and some bumps in the road, we still have my dad. Me and my sister and hers are here too.
People like to make jokes about how I don't like to touch people, but hopefully if I love you there is not a doubt in your mind even if I'm tough, and even if I don't reach out and grab you or speak your particular love language (especially if it's quality time or touch - I just may be wired funny with those). I so truly understand not being loved in return and having love taken away. But if my life and this year's grief of family and tornado have taught me anything, it's that I don't have time for you to not know I love you, I don't have time to be afraid to tell you, and I don't have time to worry about how you react to the fact I do. I'm just gonna love you. Like the church sign on Martin Luther King Blvd said for all of 2010 - Love Has No Regrets. I think God had them leave it up so stinking long to make sure I got that message in my head. Love has no regrets because all is grace, and that's the bottom line.
And just so you know, if you're reading this and are one of the few that know this blog exists - then it probably means I love you :).
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