I Will Remember Everything I Can

Eleven years ago today my family was reeling from what was the most painful 6 months of our lives to that date.  We had dealt with betrayal like I had never thought possible and almost everyone seemed eager to kick us while we were down.  Instead of bringing my family closer, we all seemed completely numb to the situation and each other.  Emotions were replaced with silence, joy with hollow laughter.

I remember waking up to my dad slamming the front door and joking about a friend's call saying we were under attack.  He flipped on the TV thinking he would have to look for some story related to this "attack" only to find that every channel was showing the same thing: a smoking tower with the tail of a plane sticking out the side.  I got up to ask him to turn down the TV and instead watched the second plane hit the tower.  I was numb to everything, but I knew something was seriously wrong.

The rest of the day my family sat together, our eyes glued to the TV.  I think this might have been the first time we sat so close together in months.  We watched the towers fall, only vaguely processing the words of the reporters and the ramifications of the day.  We remembered that my mom's sister was in D.C. staying not far from the Pentagon when we heard it had been hit.  This was suddenly personal and yet we still acted as we knew we should rather than from our emotions.  My mom made phones calls and found out sometime within the next 24 hours that my aunt was fine and would be staying a few extra days until the airports opened up.  Tragedy finally seemed to give our family a break.

But 9/11 is so much more than the events of that day.  It tore families apart--over and over again.  Every time a survivor dealt (or deals) with their post-traumatic stress disorder they felt (maybe even literally) the plane hit.  Every time a soldier left his or her family to fight the War on Terror, another family felt the affects of those terrorists. Every time a soldier realized they had missed another important moment in a family members life, they felt the attack.  Every time a child realizes his mom or dad won't see them the day they make the football team or when they get married, they feel the attack.  Those planes hit over and over again, just as destructive every time.

Yet the destruction has also brought healing.  No longer invincible, our country realized we needed to band together if we are going to make it through.  We realized that a house divided will not stand (Mark 3:25) and so we united, grew stronger, and became a new nation based on old principles.

A few months later a documentary was shown made by two guys who were following the firemen who first arrived on the scene.  After some editing to make it a little more palatable, they released it for the world to see.  Watching this documentary woke every suppressed emotion in me from the past year.  I wept.  Hard.  The pain of my brothers and sisters pulled me out of myself and made me realize that feeling brings healing.  I don't remember ever crying that much before or after that day.  No citizen of the United States of America could watch that film so soon after the attack without feeling a deep grief for every person who lived or died in that tragic moment.

So, I WILL remember everything I can from that day.  The pain and grief will never leave my heart--I want to remember how it felt to be attacked while separated from my fellow countrymen.  I will treasure the healing that came with a unity so strong no act of violence could tear us apart.  I will remember the flood of emotions I felt when, for the first time in so long, I looked outside of my own pain and allowed myself to empathize with others, cry for others, and grieve because of others--not because their pain was worse than mine, but because of the simple fact that they were in pain.  I will remember that every freedom I have today is because we came together--one nation under God--and took a stand against evil.



Thank you to all the troops who have fought, all the families who have sacrificed for those troops, all the service men and women who were more than heroic on 9/11, and to everyone who allowed us to feel your grief as you lost loved ones because of that day.  Words will never do justice to express our gratitude.  We are in your debt.

It's Never Been My Day

"This is just not my day," came pummeling into my mind today as I put away my breakfast dishes.  My dog woke me up at 2:30am and 8:30am on my sleep-in morning with incessant barking, cutting my sleep into inadequate chunks.  I ache all over from weeks of little sleep and my eyes ache from the pressure of allergies in my sinuses.  And it's only 10am.  It's just not my day.

But who ever said today was supposed to be my day in the first place?  I've never had anyone walk up to me and say, "Here.  Today is your day.  Everything will go exactly as you want it.  Enjoy."  So why do I grumble when it is made abundantly clear to me that today is just not my day?

Once again we are reminded of our deeply rooted selfishness---we actually believe we have ownership over the day.  Because we are living through the day we are under the impression that we own it and that it should go however we want.  But today is not our day.  Yesterday was not our day.  And tomorrow---and all the tomorrows to follow---will not be our day.  They never were in the first place.  After all, "this is the day that the Lord has made..." (Psalm 118:24, emphasis added)  Since God made it, shouldn't we understand it's His day to do whatever He wants with it?

But this feeling of ownership is only a symptom (which should definitely be treated) of a deeper problem.  If our mind was really focused on God wouldn't the thought be more about Him than me?  Instead of "this isn't my day" shouldn't the statement end with a question?  "Today is already difficult.  What are you planning to do in and through me today, Lord?"  But we don't tend to see that when the day starts off bad.

This selfish thinking infects every part of our lives and, more destructively, every relationship in our lives.  I've heard Christians and unbelievers complain about their days in the exact same way.  If I hadn't already known those claiming Christ as their Saviour and Lord I wouldn't have been able to distinguish between the two.  I know this is probably true for me, too, and it saddens me that our words are not seasoned with salt (Colossians 4:6) for the whole world to see that we have a different perspective on life, a hopeful perspective on life.

Our unwillingness to watch our words is only the beginning.  We do it because we think today is all about us and because we want to fit in.  But how little do we have to love God to be willing to put people ahead of Him?

The people I love the most are also the people for whom I am willing to do anything.  I'll look like a fool to make them laugh or sit through cheesy, boring movies so they won't go alone.  I'll cut huge chunks of time out of my day/week at the slightest request and won't give it a second thought.  But when it comes to making a fool of myself for God in front of my co-workers or acquaintances I think it through and try to make excuses about it not being the right time or me needing to have a more solid relationship with them before I share the Gospel with them.  Why?!

Basically, I'm more willing to make a fool of myself in front of my Saviour at His expense instead of in front of my fellow sinners who need His grace.  How on earth do we make sense of this?  Since when does it make sense to hide the amazing life of Jesus Christ?  We can talk non-stop about Michael Phelps, Gabby Douglas, and Missy Franklin, but when it comes to their Creator we shut up like it's a secret.  People will tweet pics after meeting someone famous, but how often do we see tweets about someone's time with God? Maybe a verse or retweeting a quote, but why not a quick note about how awesome God is because ______ (fill in the blank).

People say all the time that we need to be bold about our relationship with Christ and in some countries this boldness is necessary and may even require the life of Christians.  But in the good ol' U.S.A. we can say anything we want about our relationship with Christ and hang on to our lives.  So, instead of thinking that we need to be bold about who Jesus is, we really just need to be open.  God is alive!  Let's treat Him as such.

Let's talk about Him as if He's our family.  He's willing to call us His friends (John 15:15), so let's start treating Him like He's ours, too.  Talk about something cool He's shown you today or this past week.  Every time you go to church talk about it like it's a family reunion (the one that you actually want to go to), because that's exactly what it is.

Remember to spend time with Him every day because He will be the best friend you could ever hope for without any of the drama that makes relationships complicated.  He'll be the best teacher and supporter you could ever dream of having.  Seriously, He is the best at everything, so be willing to treat Him that way.  Hold Him to the highest standard you can imagine and He will still blow it out of the sky!  Nothing---literally nothing---is too hard for God! (Genesis 18:14)

I've always thought of God as competitive; He likes to show us who He really is.  It's ok to try to stump God.  I have complete confidence that He will exceed every expectation without breaking a sweat.  Don't be afraid to tell God that something is big and beyond your abilities.  I see Him hearing that and gently smiling at you, saying, "Challenge accepted!  Let me show you what I can do!"  I know that God takes joy, pure joy, in showing us more of who He is by showering His grace, mercy, strength, wisdom, love, and so much more onto us.

Allow that to happen and you won't have any choice but to say, "Today's hard, but I'm excited to see what you're going to do with it, Lord!  Surprise me once again with your goodness!"  And God's response without fail will be, "My dear child, challenge accepted!  Let me show you what I can do!"

Gentleness...Not My Strong Suit

Gentleness.  We all have different understandings of the practical application of this trait.  As children we are told to be gentle when petting an animal or holding a baby.  As we grow up, it becomes a bit more abstract.  Telling us "Be gentle with so-and-so" is supposed to give us some sort of guidance on how we treat them.  Yet what I believe to be gentle may still feel like sandpaper to another.  Or, in rare cases, someone might interpret my gentleness as condescension.

And it doesn't help that our culture throws conflicting views of gentleness at us wherever we go.  One moment us girls are told it's the quiet, gentle girl who gets the hero-man, the next we're instructed that we must be independent and focused--if people get in the way, that's their problem.  I don't want to speculate too much about what men are being told, but I assume that macho and gentle are considered opposites.

So, how on earth (and I mean that very literally, since in heaven we'll be in sinless bliss. Come quickly, Lord!) are we supposed to achieve gentleness whilst remaining bold and strong with so much muddled confusion circling the subject?

Many try to avoid the subject and choose passivity in the attempt to appear gentle.  But, unfortunately, gentleness is not necessarily passive.  Yes, sometimes we are called to step back and be "passive" for a bit, but passivity is rarely (if ever) demonstrated for us in the Bible.  Paul the apostle writes strong, harsh words to some churches who have fallen away from the truth.  He calls the Galatians "anoétos" which is interpreted "mindless", "foolish", or "just plain stupid" (Galatians 3:1).  Jesus, the Prince of Peace, calls the pharisees "whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean." (Matthew 23:27)  These comments were neither passive nor gentle.

But Jesus was a very gentle man.  Children felt safe around Him and He reached out to touch people who were unwanted.  He was approachable.  The Bible tells us that the fruit of the Spirit is characterized by gentleness (Galatians 5 22).  We are instructed to be gentle.

But in my experience people have used gentleness as an excuse to avoid a problem.  More people are hurt than helped by this method.  The other extreme is to throw gentleness to the wind for the sake of addressing an issue.  Yet, once again, more people are hurt than helped by this method.  And of all the people who have confronted me about something--and there have been quite a few--I remember maybe two who have done so in a way that addressed the issue as well as my human fragility.  Shouldn't this be the way in the Christian family?  Shouldn't it always be beautifully balanced, never sacrificing the pursuit of truth and goodness nor state of mankind for the sake of the other?

Some who read this may believe me to be the last person in the world to have any authority in addressing this matter.  To those people, I would say you are right.  If I consistently fail at anything, it is gentleness.  If something needs to be addressed or an uncomfortable topic needs to be raised, I'm the person for the job.  But if a delicate subject comes up, don't call me.  I'll be clueless but my desire to help will prompt me to give ideas that are probably no good.  It would be much better for you to find someone else who understands gentleness.

There are many reasons I consistently fail in this area--one can only survive in the performance world of musical theatre, opera, and film/TV for so long before a thick skin takes shape.  But the main reason is my sinful nature.  I could explain my rough edges with my childhood and the hurts I've had while growing up and performing, but that only affected me like it did because I am inherently sinful.  And unfortunately, this sinfulness has been left relatively untouched in this aspect of my life.  I have needed my thick skin to protect myself from instructors, directors, P.A.'s, roommates, and so many more who cared little for my soul...until recently.  And until recently I have lived amoungst others needing to grow the same thick skin.  Vulnerability opened one up to a relentless attack from the enemy.  All of us learned to nurture the thick skin and fend for ourselves.  Unfortunate, yes, but true.

I say all this to explain my struggle with gentleness.  I rarely open up this much (which makes sense considering where I've been for the past 10 years), but a recent confrontation (done so very well) has reminded me that I need to focus much of my energy on this area of my life.  I must learn to be gentle because God wants me to be gentle.

To anyone I have hurt with my lack of gentleness, I am deeply, deeply sorry.  The last thing in the world that I want to do is hurt anyone.  If I have caused you pain with my sarcasm, know that it was never meant as a real stab at you.  Having been on the receiving end of so many seriously mean comments, I understand your hurt.  I hate that I may have caused anyone the same pain I have felt in the past.  If I have hurt you with a disregard for you or your feelings, I am SO sorry.  Please understand that I do not intend to disregard your feelings!  That was unintentional.  It is wrong of me to do anything which could cause you to feel ignored.

I know a public apology like this can be considered easy or too general, but I am coming to realize that there are more people than I would like to admit who have been hurt by my ungentle words.  As far back as I can remember, I have felt deeply sorry whenever I have caused someone pain.  So, whether I hurt you today or 20 years ago, I am sorry.  I praise God that He gives allowance for unintentional/inadvertent sins! (See Leviticus 4-6:7)  If you desire to talk through whatever happened, please contact me so we can talk and I can apologize more personally.

My pursuit for gentleness is really just now beginning, but I have hope in God, who is my strength.  Trust me, addressing this subject is difficult for me, but I know it will be worth every step.  I challenge you to do the same.  Look that sin you've been avoiding for so long straight in the eyes and tell it to get.  After all, we are free from the grasp of sin (Romans 8:2) and serve the Lord who holds the keys of Death and Hades (Revelation 1:18)!

Praise be to God for His wondrous and glorious ways!

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for wholeness and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.  Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will hear you.  You will seek Me and find Me.  When you seek Me with all your heart, I will be found by you, declares the Lord..." (Jeremiah 29:11-14a)

Worship: A Thing of Honor

I have often thought about the true meaning of worship.  As much as I love to sing and play instruments, that is definitely not the only way to worship.  But how do we present our bodies as "living sacrifices", as the apostle says in Romans, in a practical way.  Sometimes it seems so abstract.  But sometimes it seems so basic, mundane.

About 5 years ago, as I was recovering from an accident and learning to walk again, I attended a study abroad program during which we read Colossians every day for three weeks straight.  Before I left, I visited my doctor for another check up.  As he watched me walk (which was more a feeble limp) around his office, he said, "You need to act like you are healed.  Just walk like everything is fine.  Everything else will come together.  You'll be fine."

I went to the program and did everything I could to apply this thought (including play ultimate frisbee, much to the chagrin of some friends). But about half through the program it hit me: when it comes to our faith, we're just supposed to walk.  Paul says, "Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him..." (Colossians 2:6).  There is no pomp and circumstance or any abstract thought to grasp.  It's just that basic.  Walk in Jesus.  And as someone who just recently became infinitely grateful to walk, I appreciated duality of just how difficult and simple this can be.

But by no means is it mundane.  Paul tells us:

"For in [Christ] all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through Him to reconcile Himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of His cross.  And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, He has now reconciled in His body of flesh by His death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before Him..." (Colossians 1:19-22, emphasis added)

Jesus' death made our worship possible.  He made our spiritual walk possible.  As simple as it may now be to walk, without Jesus' sacrifice intended to give us the ability to know Him, we would not be healed from our "evil deeds" and therefore unable to walk in Him.

And we don't just walk with Him watching at a distance.  Jesus died so we can enter the presence of the most high God.

"Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that He opened for us through the curtain, that is, through His flesh...let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith..." (Hebrews 10:19-22, emphasis added)

When we walk, we walk with the Creator of the Universe, the God of Justice, the Redeemer by our side.  We walk in the presence of God.  How could I have ever thought that mundane?  We are constantly and continually honored with the presence of God.  But somehow this is forgotten.

But as we approach Good Friday and Easter, let us not forgot why Jesus walked.  He walked so that we may walk with Him.

"And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with Him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands.  This He set aside, nailing it to the cross.  He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in Him." (Colossians 2:13-15, emphasis added)

He did it all so that we could be "made alive together with Him".  He wanted to be with us.  He loved us so much that He gave His only Son as a sacrifice for us so that we would not be separated from Him (John 3:16).  "[Jesus] has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of His beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." (Col. 1:13)

Jesus did this.  The Son of God. The only perfect man ever to live.  Jesus Christ.

"He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.  For by Him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities--all things were created through Him and for Him.  And He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.  And He is the head of the body, the church.  He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything He might preeminent.  For in Him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through Him to reconcile to Himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of His cross." (Colossians 1:15-20, emphasis added)

Church Commitment Issues

I've moved 23 times (21 in LA county), left all but two jobs in under 9 months, and have known only two people outside my family over 7 years.  Apparently I have commitment issues.  I've been in my current home for 6 months and I'm getting antsy, ready to have a new surrounding.  I don't think these issues really pose a problem for me in most aspects of my life.  But I'm beginning to realize that this issue overflowed into my church commitment.  This is a problem and I know I'm not the only one who struggles with it.

Most churches have a membership class available to new attendees every month or so.  In the class a member of the church staff tells the attendees about the church--the beliefs, statement of faith, etc--and answers any questions the attendees may have.  This is usually followed with the attendees signing a form stating they will now align themselves with the church's statement of faith.

Disclaimer: 1) I am not saying church membership is wrong.  I actually believe it is sadly necessary. 2) Although I argue against leaving a church, I do believe there are times when leaving a church is good for both the Christian and the church.  But more often than not, people do not have these good reasons to leave.

But I don't see this in the Bible, so why does the Church of today need to adopt this practice?

There are many excuses, but the main reason is this: people are afraid to commit.  If people feel like they are part of the team and have a say in what happens then they will get more involved and not run away at the first sign of discomfort.  So churches have adopted the tradition of membership.  In general, we HATE confrontation more than anything else and discomfort is generally the first sign that confrontation is in the future.  In fact, we hate confrontation more than we love community.  This is a tragedy in the deepest sense.

So far as I know, never does God instruct us to avoid--much less run away from--confrontation.  Instead, we are given instruction to pursue peace and love for one another.  In Romans, while describing the marks of a Christian, Paul tells the church "If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all." (Rom. 12:18)  We are to act as one body (1 Cor. 12:12-31) with one goal, "empowered by one and the same Spirit" (1 Cor. 12:11).  After all, Paul says, "God has so composed the body...that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another." (1 Cor. 12:24-25)  A good section in the first letter to the Corinthians is written about love, painting a picture of humility and patience.  He ends this description with this: "So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.  Pursue love..." (1 Cor. 13:13-14:1)

This in no way means that we are to run the second an uncomfortable situation rears its ugly little head.  Matthew recounts Jesus' instructions to the disciples on confrontation in Matthew 18.  After once again showing His disciples His heart towards sin and the lost, Jesus tells the disciples to first confront the person who has sinned against them alone.  Then, if they do not listen, bring in a third party "that every charge may be established by the evidence of two or three witnesses." (Matt. 18:16)  If the person still refuses to listen, tell the church.  Then if yet again they refuse to listen--then and only then--are you to lay the issue to rest and "let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector." (Matt. 18:17)

But--and this is truly a HUGE but--Jesus does not in any way, shape, or form instruct His disciples to separate themselves from that community.  In fact, if we look at past interactions Jesus had with Gentiles and tax collectors, we see that we are supposed to treat them with love and respect (see John 4:1-45, Luke 19:1-10; Matt. 8:5-13).  We have used this reference in Matthew 18 to give us an excuse to run away when things get tough in relationships.  Yet when things got tough for Jesus in His closest relationships (think of the disciples falling asleep during His final hours and Judas' betrayal) He dug His heels in.

We see this exemplified by Paul in his letter to the Galatians as well as the author of the letter to the Hebrews.  At the beginning of the letter, Paul expresses his surprise with the Galatians, saying, "I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting Him who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel--not that there is another one, but there are some who trouble you and want to distort the gospel of Christ." (Gal. 1:6-7)  Later his frustrations becomes apparent when he exclaims, "O foolish Galatians!" (Gal. 3:1)  The author of Hebrews has a similar frustration with the Hebrews refusing to grow, choosing laziness in their faith. (Heb. 5:11-12)

Neither of these spiritual leaders ran away or ignored the problem--they attacked it head on and didn't let go.  This should be our response.  We need to desire community and work for that community no matter the cost.

After God created Adam He decided that it was "not good that the man should be alone", so God created woman.  When Jesus first sent out the disciples, He sent them out in teams of two (Luke 10:1).  And according to Jesus, the greatest two commandments in the Bible are to love God and love others (Matt. 22:37-40).  How can we possibly love others if we are not in a community with them?  According to John, one of Jesus' disciples, we love God by keeping His commandments (1 John 5:3).  Therefore, in order to fulfill both commandments Jesus describes, we must love others.  Jesus makes these two commandments so intrinsically linked that we cannot possibly choose one and not do the other.

But, you may say, I can love my neighbor and everyone around me without having to commit to a church.  I don't believe this is completely possible.  Yes, there is a general love that we can have and show to those around us that we do not know.  But how is this anything like the love of Jesus?  When Jesus was on earth He ministered to everyone around Him, but He also had His close friends like Lazarus (John 11:5) as well as the twelve disciples, specifically Peter, John, and James.  He invested most of His time with them despite their immaturity (for example, Luke 9:46).

Let's face it, though.  Usually the reason we want to run from a church has a weak foundation at best.  I know that as soon as I start to feel like a church is becoming "home", I look for anything that could possibly be wrong and then latch on to that and run.  Some of these things could even have been a mistake on the part of the speaker, but I don't wait for explanations.  I just run.  And I know I'm not the only one who does this.  I've heard many reasons people have left the church, and a lot of times it's downright petty.  These range from the pastor dresses wrong to not singing enough hymns to the church accepting unrepentant people to the service times being inconvenient to the wrong stance on alcohol.  It's absolutely ridiculous.  Seriously?

Are we really that afraid of commitment?  What on earth will happen if we stay with a church for more than a year or so?  And I mean that literally--what on earth?  Because, if we really have faith in Jesus, we will know that nothing on earth--nothing--can "separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rom. 8:35-39).

So why are we so afraid of commitment?  Are we afraid to be known by a fellow believer?  Do we think once our fellow believers see us for who we really are, a sinner, the rest of the church will reject us?  Is our consideration of the church so low that we don't trust the family that God has given us?  Do we really have so little faith in the God of the universe, the One who saved us, that we can't commit to His people?

A Hospital Visit

I've experienced a lot of physical pain in my life.  The joke amongst my friends while growing up was that I had my annual injury to complete before a year was truly over. But I had never felt pain like this before.  Yet my first thought after we were hit was not of my pain but of someone else.

I just came out of a few weeks being angry at God, not because He wasn't present or because of something that had happened in my life, but because of the state of His church.  Despite attending a Christian university I felt like the only difference was that we went to chapel three times a week...maybe.  I sat there in each of my classes confused, frustrated, and tired.  I had never yelled so much at God.  "Why?!" I would ask.  "WHY would you allow YOUR Church to become so damn DARK!"  I don't usually cuss, but in this context, in my anger, I deemed it completely appropriate.  After all, the Church I saw was acting no different than if they were damned to hell.

But then I go to a class discussing Dostoevsky's "The Brothers Karamazov".  One character, Father Zossima, mentions the importance of looking for the light in the dark.  He says that if we look for dark we will find it, but if we keep searching for the light we will discover that it is stronger and much more resilient than darkness.  After all, the stars shine through the dark sky every night despite being` millions of miles away.

Two days later I spend a glorious day with my four best friends.  The five of us--as we always call ourselves--received tickets to Disneyland, the happiest place on earth!  After a brief discussion between my roommate and me about who will drive, we decide she will this time and I would drive next time.  About an hour later, after meeting up and driving through a little traffic, the five of us arrive at Disneyland!

We get on the tram and I begin to feel a little sick, but I figure I'm just exhausted and that the feeling will go away once I start to move more.  Despite my optimism, my first stop is the restroom near Space Mountain where I expel the contents of my stomach.  This unhappy event completed, we go on some rides and enjoy some popcorn, which my stomach eventually decides I don't want after all and gives to a tree just inside the castle.  Thankfully the rest of the day goes wonderfully.  And these two incidents don't dampen my spirits at all.  In fact, I laugh about it.  I honestly think it is the funniest experience!  I just keep laughing and praising God for my friends.

With the image of the beautiful fireworks show in my head, we make our way back through the masses to the car and then to home.  We talk about how much fun the day has been and that we should do things like this more often.  As we turn onto campus I look up and notice we shouldn't be turning.  We are going to be hit.  No, I am going to be hit.

Silence.  Angels singing.  Peace.

The next moment I hear the crunch of metal as two cars attempt to defy the laws of physics and occupy the same place at the same time and, in what seems like half a second, I notice that the two people on the driver side are out of the car, my roommate is being yelled at by the other driver, and my friend behind me is stuck but ok.  I want to get out of the car.  That person needs to stop yelling at my friend!  They have absolutely no right to treat her like that.  But I blink and they are gone and a man in uniform is near my window telling me they are trying to get me out of the car, comforting me and saying they are doing everything they can and that I'll be more comfortable soon.  I can't process this information.  The car is just pressing in too hard and there are too many lights and people.

The next moment I'm in the ambulance feeling and hearing everything but seeing nothing.  One of my friends is telling me, "I'm right here with you.  We're going to the hospital.  I'll be with you the whole time."

Over what seems like a few minutes, but is most likely many hours, I get a X-ray, CT Scan, and, finally, after my friend yells at the nurses to help me with my pain, some morphine.  But everything is so fuzzy.  I'm so confused that I can't even say Psalm 23, so my friend and I work through it together, piecing together what we remember in an attempt to find peace.  I'm unsure if we got it right, but it is comforting to focus on something other than my pain as I lift myself on and off the X-ray and CT Scan tables.

As the CT Scan is finishing, I remember that something is wrong with my sheets.  They smell and are wet.  They need to be changed.  So I ask the technician to change my sheets.  "How long have I been laying in my own urine?" I wonder to myself.

At some point I ask my friend to call my mom.  For all I know she had already called her, but suddenly my mom was at my side talking with the nurse.

"You didn't check her blood pressure after she left the ambulance?!  Don't you dare give her anything else until we know what her blood pressure is!"

The nurse checks.  It's 60/33.  The normal range is 110-120/60-70.

"Morphine will lower her blood pressure.  She's in and out of consciousness as it is and you are going to give her something that will LOWER her blood pressure even more?!  Find something else NOW!  She'll be in a coma soon if you give her that!"

My mom is angry, that much I know, but I just want to sleep.  I hear the doctor explaining things to my mom, but I understand a few things like, "She may not make it" and "There may be extensive brain damage" and "She will never walk again." And always--always--qualified with "We'll just have to wait and see what happens."

I'm feeling a little stronger and look around to see where I am.  Something is different.  I realize I'm in an ambulance again and there is a man sitting next to me and talking.  Apparently I asked him a question because he seems to be talking to me and explaining something.  So I decide to talk with him.  Might as well.  I have no idea how long this ride is going to last.

But as I blink I suddenly find myself in a beautiful, big, bright, comfortable hospital room.  A nurse has been checking on me and apparently we are going to try to get the rest of the glass off me before I get too comfortable.  Why is there still glass on me?  The nurse and my mom carefully and gently try to wipe off any glass they find and then start picking out the bits that are stuck to my skin.  I realize I have scratches all over my hands and arms and that it all stings.

Then the pain hits me and all I want is relief.  I'm starting to realize that I've been in pain for hours, maybe even days.  I just want it to stop.  And it does.  A nurse slowly pushes the medicine into my IV and tells me to try to relax and sleep.  I have no choice as the warmth of the medicine seems to trickle down my body.  I slip off into a dreamless sleep.

When I wake I see friends coming in my room.  Their expressions range from solemn grimaces to forced smiles, but I'm so happy to see people I know!  We laugh and some of my friends--the nursing majors--look over my X-rays with my mom, intrigued by the location and extent of all seven fractures (we later found an eighth hairline fracture that was hidden by the swelling).  A nurse walks in to check on my vitals and I realize I know him.  We go to school together.  The shock on his face quickly turns to an awkward look.  I can tell he's thinking he needs to get out of the room.  Somehow, at some point, everybody is gone and it's just me and my mom again.

But all my thoughts fade away when my roommate who was driving and her parents walk in the room.  She brought me a white, fluffy teddy bear.  She asks me how I'm doing, but I can tell she is eyeing the door, ready to run as soon as things become too uncomfortable.  I try to work out in my mind why she would possibly want to run away but the exhaustion, pain, and drugs are making it so difficult.  And then it hits me.

"I don't blame you."  I tell her.  I have no idea what else to say but I know something must be said and I have to be the one to say it.

"What?"  The shock in her voice confirms my suspicion.  She thinks I hate her.  But how could I possibly hate her?  She starts telling me why I should blame her, saying that she should have turned, but her words don't make any sense to me, so I cut her off.

"It was an accident.  They happen."

She starts to cry--I think this might be the first time I've ever seen her cry--and then says the unthinkable, "I should be here!  Not you!"

"No!" The last thing in the world I want is for anyone else, much less her, to feel more pain than they already have.  "I don't blame you!  It's ok!"  I grab her hand and we hug for who knows how long.

I didn't understand the weight of that simple statement until I heard her tell the story from her side months later.  I couldn't imagine blaming her.  In my mind for about six months I believed myself to blame.  After all, she didn't realize we would be hit and I did.  I thought I should have said something.  But some of the wisest words anyone has ever said to me were: "It was an accident.  No one was in control.  Not you, not your roommate.  Accidents happen and that's ok."

In that situation, we both felt like we needed forgiveness and grace.  She needed it from someone else while I needed it from myself.  And through all the turmoil came a beautiful realization for me.  If I look for the dark in a situation, I will inevitably find it.  But if you look for the light, for love and grace and forgiveness, God will show Himself to you in His eternal glory and outshine the dark every single time.