All the Single Ladies

I have a confession to make - I love weddings.

This isn't that shocking of a confession, I suppose; a lot of people love weddings. Two people standing up in front of God and their closest family and friends, making a life-long commitment to one another? That's a beautiful thing.

Totes me.

But when I say I love weddings, I mean even more than just the wedding itself. I mean that I am one of those people who has a wedding Pinterest board, even though I'm not dating anyone. I've been known to follow various wedding blogs (Style Me Pretty is my favorite) to see what the trends are for weddings this year. When I ask my friends about their planning process, I want to know everything, from who they asked to be in their wedding party to what gifts they're getting their wedding party; from the overall colors of the wedding to what cake or food vendor they're using (and whether or not the venue is letting them bring in their own alcohol). I can't help it; the event planner in me loves hearing about all the small details, knowing that they add up to one big, special day (and recognizing that, if done right, all the small details reflect EXACTLY who the couple is, and make the day even more special).

I have another confession to make - I am currently dabbling in the online dating world (where my Tinder & Bumble peeps at???). This honestly shouldn't be that shocking of a confession, either. More and more, it's getting harder and harder for young people to meet other singles without the help of some swiping or "liking." And especially since I just made a big move to a big city a few months ago, I figure, "It doesn't hurt to put myself out there a bit! Who knows who I'll meet?"

Of course, these two confessions aren't that world-shaking, and of course, dating leads to marriage, so it makes sense that I'm making these confessions together, right?

Well, herein lies my point.

I'm 27 years young. I am single, and for the most part, loving it. Seriously, I have an amazing new group of friends here in Charlotte, as well as my friends from Indiana, grad school, college, and my hometown. I enjoy an active social life. I am career-minded and -focused, and am passionate about the work I do in higher education. I have a loving and supportive family (who all live close to each other for the first time in 4 years).

And yet, like many people, I do get lonely sometimes. I do want to put myself out there, and meet a great guy, and settle down someday to have children and a family of my own. I see my friends meeting great partners and building a life together, and I get a little jealous, hoping someday to write a love story of my own.

Per the suggestion of my dear friend Gillian, I've been listening to the Dear Sugar Radio podcast, specifically, the three-part episode about the search for "The One." And holy heck, is this resonating with me. (I highly recommend you give it a listen, no matter your demographics, but ESPECIALLY if you're a single straight woman - the content herein applies specifically to us.)

Essentially, these podcast episodes detail a national trend: the Dear Sugar folks get untold amounts of letters from single women in their twenties-to-fifties asking the same questions: when will I meet The One? Is he even out there? Is there something wrong with me if I haven't met him yet? Are there even any available men out there anymore?

The letters they read on these episodes reflect my same internal struggles every day: I love my life, and yet I can't help but feel unfulfilled without a partner with whom to share it. My feminism tells me I don't need a man to feel fulfilled, but also tells me that I can choose and build the life that I want with whoever I want (and if that's a husband, that's perfectly ok.) My faith tells me that God works in His time and His purposes are good and perfect, but that that purpose may be for me to be married someday... or it may not.

Half of my days, I REVEL in singleness - this, my twenties, is one of the few times in my life when I'm allowed to be somewhat selfish, focusing on my self-esteem, my career, and my well-being. There are times when I can definitely imagine myself leading a whole & fulfilled life without a partner, focusing my time and energies on the other people in my life that I love.

Yet, there is this pervasive cultural narrative - and my own deeply rooted desires - that tell me that I all I want, all I need, is that "happy ending." That a life without a wedding, without a husband, without children, is no life at all. That my biological clock is a-ticking away, and time. is. running. out.

Some of this is true (at least according to the economist featured on the Dear Sugar podcast - scarcity in the dating pool is REAL!).

BUT - and here's the BIG but (ha!) - the end goal of marriage & a partner cannot consume my life. Every time I go on a date with a new guy, I can't expect to hear wedding bells ring. Dating is a crazy journey that, if you let it, can teach you as much about yourself as it does about the people that you date. In relationships, in love, the journey itself is just as important as the destination.

Reflecting on all of this, I've ended up making some healthy choices for me:

1. I've committed to "try, try again" with dating. If I don't put myself out there, I may NEVER meet someone, so the least I can do is try! And in the meantime, I can enjoy each date for the experience it is - the chance to meet and connect with someone new.
2. I have scaled back my consumption of all things wedding. This doesn't mean that I'm boycotting weddings altogether; quite the opposite, actually. In order to remind myself of the true importance of a wedding - the marriage itself, and the life two people build after the event is over - I have committed to caring less about all of the trappings of "the day."
3. I want to be open about my journey. Blogging, for me - reflecting on the meaning of romance, of dating, of singleness - is key to moving forward as a healthy woman. I want to reflect on my experiences, to be open about them, to invite conversation & dialogue with those who read my blog, and to hopefully tell others that you're not alone out there in your singleness.

So, single ladies, let us come together in solidarity! Let us drown our sorrows about the seeming lack of single, available men in wine and ice cream and chocolate! Let us ALSO build one another up in our journeys toward fulfilled, love-filled lives! And, in the words of our Queen Bee, let us "put our hands up." Let us OWN our singleness, to delight in who we are as individual women as as women together - friends and confidantes, platonic soulmates. For I don't believe in "The One," but rather in MANY "Ones" - people (romantic & platonic) who come into your life for a reason, to make it better and more whole.

When in doubt, channel Beyonce.

Boil, boil, my pasta pot

Being a quarter Sicilian (where my paisans at?), food is an integral part of my life. I'm not just talking for basic survival purposes, which is, of course, accurate, but I really mean that food - good food - comes in near the top of my Maslow's hierarchy of needs, right up there with love, belonging, esteem, and self-actualization.

Image via Wikipedia - pasta fits right in the middle of that purple "self-actualization" section

Not only do I describe food as an interest in my life; I'd call it (and eating) more of a hobby. I'll let my ever-evolving waistline speak for itself when it comes to health, but again, food for me is much more than sustaining my body; it's a way to feel, to think, to live, and to connect with people.

I say all this because I had an epiphany last Thursday morning. I was up at 6:30 a.m., making my mom's spaghetti sauce. For those of you who have never had Harriet's spaghetti sauce, let me tell you, it is a TREAT. First of all, the recipe makes a TON, so it's good to share and to have beaucoup leftovers. The real beauty, though, what makes it so delicious, is that all of the ingredients simmer all day long in the crock pot, marrying their flavors for a delicious conclusion at dinnertime.

But that delicious saucy conclusion takes a lot of work, and a lot of dedication. First, there's the early wake-up call (and yeah, I could have made it later in the day, but then it wouldn't have been able to simmer as long! Remember, simmering is key). Then, there's all the prep work that goes into the sauce - browning the meat, chopping the onions and garlic, prepping all the spices, mixing it all together... it's quite a commitment to make this sauce.

There's the rub, though - the delicious outcome is a result of the commitment. Only through the sacrifice of getting up early, of investing precious time in the preparation of the meal, can the meal truly be enjoyed at the end of the day. Making my mom's spaghetti sauce is a labor of love, and the proof is in the pasta sauce.

My epiphany came from consideration of that labor of love. How much more would other pieces of my life benefit if I committed myself to them in the same way I commit to my mom's pasta sauce? Isn't every good thing, every thing that benefits others, worthy of some hard work and sacrifice? Sure, if I give of my utmost self and abilities each day, it's going to make me tired, it's going to feel like I'm "emptying my bucket" with no immediate prospect of filling it again. But eventually, all of the hard work will come to fruition.

Someday, I'll see the finished product of my labors, much like I get to come home to a delicious pot of pasta sauce after a long day's prep work and simmering. But in the same way that I have to trust that my early morning work on my cooking will result in my favorite conclusion - a delicious meal - I must trust in my daily life that my hard work will someday be of benefit to others (even if I don't see it now).

Where can this mantra of "trusting the process" (as cliche as that might seem) benefit you in your life? Where might you dedicate yourself better to your work, believing that in the end you'll benefit from that commitment? What can be your labor of love, your "pasta sauce," today?

These are the questions I ask myself this morning, as I contemplate my mother's pasta sauce (which is also making my stomach rumble). Pasta makes me think of home, of family, of togetherness, of blessings. I want to try to find the same joy in my work process today as I do in cooking, even if the outcome is not as delicious. I want my life to be a labor of love, committed to making the world a better place, one "pot of pasta" at a time.

This post is brought to you in part by Strega Nona

LeaderShape, Day Two: The Value of One, the Power of All

Note: This Spring Break, I served as a small group facilitator on LeaderShape, a six-day immersive leadership experience for college students. This was my first time working with a LeaderShape experience, so I wanted to record and process my reflections and learning here on my blog.

LeaderShape makes a point to set a theme for each day of its Institute, and these themes all build upon one another and on the learning of the participants. Day One's theme is Building Community (see my blog post on Day One here, and on our faculty training on Day Zero here), and Day Two's theme is "The Value of One, the Power of All."

This is one of the most impactful themes of the LeaderShape experience for me. It ties nicely into the basis of my personal professional philosophy: I believe that every individual has inherent value. No matter where you come from, no matter your background, no matter what you do or what you look like, you matter. This is an important thought that I try to impress upon the college students I work with (and on my colleagues, friends, family members, etc.) - every person matters. Even if you don't like someone, even if you disagree with another person's beliefs or worldview, every person matters. 

But how do we balance that with building community? How can we possibly jibe the two concepts of individual self-worth and the larger importance of community as a whole?

Well, imagine a world where every person believes that they matter. Imagine a world where self-esteem is no longer an issue; where every young child is told from the moment they're born that they are valuable. Imagine how much kinder people would be if they weren't competing for attention or to have their voice heard, because they already knew that their perspective was valuable.

Even more than that, imagine a world where every person not only knew that THEY mattered, but also knew that every person on this planet matters. Your story is just one piece of the larger whole of life, and you are inextricably tied into every other life on this planet. 

Do you have chills thinking about that? I certainly do. 

And so, thinking back on Day Two of LeaderShape, I'm ecstatic that we spent a day reminding all our participants that they matter (on a one-to-one basis), and that THEY matter (as a collective whole). Despite the discriminations and hurtful words of their past, despite the pain of their upbringing and of growing up, despite every struggle that feels like it weighs on them every day, they matter.

Having these conversations reminded me that this concept - "the value of one, the power of all" - is a part of my personal philosophy, and that I want to enact more and more each day. How am I treating myself with kindness, because I matter? How am I treating others with kindness, to show them that THEY matter? 

Thank you, LeaderShape, for holding me accountable to this belief, and for giving us the chance to build into these participants that they are valuable, and together they are powerful.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." - Marianne Williamson

Yeah, it's THAT kind of blog post.

Also Entitled: Faith, Feminism, and the Search for "My Future Spouse."

Context: I received a text this evening with a link to a blog post (shoutout to Briarwood and the awesome text conversation that ensued!). This particular post is one of those viral Facebook open letters, entitled “To My Future Wife” (read it here). It starts out so nicely – a young man begins to write an open letter to his future wife (obviously), something that many in the Christian community like to do.* From the title, I didn’t know what to expect; I saw such potential in the idea behind the post. But then… it starts to go downhill. A lot. For the entire post.  So now, I’m gonna do the thing that always follows an open letter – I’m going to be the person that writes an open letter in response to an open letter. Enjoy!

*(Disclaimer: I have written notes to my future husband, if there is in fact a future husband for me, and I’m not embarrassed about it. I love the idea of being able to revisit a mindset from the past, and compare the actual person with the idea of a person from years prior. And I definitely love the idea of prayers for someone you haven’t met yet, and of general Christian encouragement. This post is not a critique about the format of this young man’s blog post, but rather its content, tenor, and overall perspective.)

My dear single Christian brothers,

I’m gonna cut right to the chase – growing up, the Christian church has taught us a lot about what it means to be godly men and godly women. Some of these things are spot-on and right in line with the teachings of Christ, and some of these things have been edited and bent and shifted based on the cultural and societal roles and mores of Christians throughout the centuries. History and society are what they are, but we need to be aware of society's role in faith as we move forward into the twenty-first century. I am a believer that God created men and women for different roles in life – why else would there be two biological sexes of humans? – but I am also a believer that God created man and woman to be partners and equals in all aspects of society, especially relationships. 

"So God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. God blessed them and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it’” (emphasis mine; text Genesis 1:27-28, NIV).

Hello. My name is Cassidy, and I am Christian… and a feminist.

And here’s the thing, my brothers. While I adore and cherish each of you for wanting to be a warrior for your Christian sisters, and wanting to protect our hearts and minds, we need to have a conversation about what it actually means to be a man in the Christian faith. And while I may not be the most qualified person to give you an example of what TO do (that person would be Jesus), as a woman, I can give you several examples of how NOT to relate to Christian women as a Christian man, illustrated through responses to our brother Brett’s blog post points (again, read them here) as he writes to his future wife. While I'm sure his intentions were sound, his understanding of what it means to be a man in relation to a Christian woman is… not awesome.

So without further ado, here is a reminder of some things YOU should know in order to be the kind of godly man that even stands the tiniest chance at being in a successful, loving, caring, God-honoring, Christian relationship:

First and foremost, we may not get married. Like, ever. It’s a hard truth, but a truth it is. And we need to stop teaching our Christian youth that a “future spouse” is in the cards for every one of us. While I believe the union of two people is a beautiful sacrament, provided by God, I don’t think He intended every single person on this earth to be married. I DO believe in soulmates (be they spouses or just best friends), and I DO believe that God sets aside people that are going to be VERY important in your life. But, need I remind you? Jesus never married. The disciples never married (that we know of, at least). St. Paul never married (and one can even question his overall opinion of that sacrament). What do we know at the end of the day? Christ is our bridegroom (Isaiah 54:5, Revelation 19:7-9), end of story. Honestly, he’s the main spouse that I’m concerned about, and He should be your main concern, too.

Next: yes, my brothers, I am beautiful. I appreciate your affirmation of my self-esteem; that is wonderful that you want me to remember the source of my beauty. But here’s the thing with that – I’m not beautiful because you tell me I am. I am beautiful because my Jesus says I am, and because my Maker made me. My God “has loved [me] with an everlasting love” and has “drawn [me] with loving-kindness” (Jeremiah 31:3); I was created in God’s image (Genesis 1:27); God knit me together in my mother’s womb (Psalm 139:13); I am “altogether beautiful” (Song of Songs 4:7)… you get the picture. So while I admire your desire to keep encouraging your Christian sisters that the beauty standards of the world are unreasonable and unjust (because they definitely are) remember – that validation cannot and should not come from you. It needs to come from God, and from within. (Otherwise, you’re perpetuating the expectation that validation for female beauty has to come from men… get it?)

While we're on the subject of female beauty... First of all, my brothers, I appreciate your modesty, but we don’t need to refer to the human body as “goodies;” that starts the objectification off on a REALLY bad foot. (You only need to read Song of Songs once to know that sex is a beautiful and natural thing, so we can be adults and refer to the human body as… a body.) Secondly, again, while I appreciate your encouragement of the values of modesty and purity (which I personally hold very dear), it is not your role to police my body. In fact, that role only belongs to one person: “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies” (1 Cor. 6:19-20). I will honor God first, foremost, and only, with my body. But that is MY choice, not yours. So, with all the love and admiration and respect that you have for guarding my heart and protecting my purity… no offense, guys, but it’s not yours to guard. I ask you instead to guard your OWN body and mind first. Be concerned with how YOUR choices and YOUR actions and YOUR thoughts affect the women in your life, not blaming them for your purity struggles. (And thirdly, just real fast, probably not the best idea to compare a living, breathing, human being – especially a woman – with a car. I am neither a Honda nor a Lamborghini, and the sooner you start realizing that women are not inanimate objects to be fawned over and owned, but rather your sisters in Christ and real humans with the same value as you, the better off you’re going to be.)

Onto the next one: yes, I am a princess. But here we go again – I’m not a princess because you say so, but rather because it’s a fact. “The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory” (Romans 8:16-17, NIV). If God is the King – and He definitely is – then I’m a princess by default. But you know what the thing is about princesses? We don’t sit in towers, waiting to be rescued by our Prince Charming. I already got rescued by the Savior of the World, thank you very much, and so did you. We don’t need to talk about “rescuing” each other; it takes away the focus from the real Hero of our story. 

Here's another thing - have you even READ the Bible? I’m pretty sure God’s past princesses have taken care of God’s creation (Eve), 

helped spies take down a city (Rahab), 

ruled Israel (Deborah), 

killed the enemies of God (Jael), 

saved their people from extinction (Esther), 

stayed faithful when the whole world turned against them (Mary), 

washed the feet of Jesus with their tears (Mary Magdalene), 

given all their worldly possessions to God (the widow with two coins), 

been some of the most influential founders of the Christian church outside Judea (Lydia, Priscilla, Phoebe, Mary, Tryphena, Tryphosa, Persis, etc.)… 

I’ll stop there. You get where I’m going with this. Yes, you’re going to have to fight for me, because my heart already belongs to my God. But if you want a woman who’s sitting in a tower waiting for you, you’re running after the wrong kind of woman. I, and my Christian sisters with me, am out in the field fighting dragons and having adventures all on my own. My Prince is already on my side, and our battle is already in full swing. Are you ready to join the adventure with us?

Don’t you worry, my brothers. I’ll make you work for my heart. Oh boy, will you have to work. Because like I said, my heart already belongs to Someone very special. “My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God” (Ps. 84:2, NIV). “My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my fortress, I will never be shaken” (Ps. 62:1-2, NIV). “[God] sends from heaven and saves me, rebuking those who hotly pursue me; God sends his love and his faithfulness” (Ps. 57:3 NIV). Honestly, I don’t want a man who pines every minute for me; I want a man who pines every minute for our Savior. I want a man who wants to be more like Jesus. I deserve more than a gentleman, and you deserve more than a woman who just wants chivalry (and who waits around to get it from the world, rather than seeking the heart of the One who loves us more than anything in this world). Let’s all strive to be a little more like Jesus, huh? Jesus said himself, “’Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment” (Matthew 22:37, NIV).

No, love isn’t easy, my brothers. I know it, because my Savior died for the love of us, and that’s not an easy thing to do for someone. I know from my Bible studies, and from living my life, that love is a choice each day, to be patient, kind, not envious, not boastful, not rude, not self-seeking, not easily angered, not keeping a record of wrongs, not delighting in evil, rejoicing in truth, always projecting, always trusting, always hoping, always persevering (2 Cor. 13:4-7, NIV). So thank you for being honest and up-front about the difficult nature of love, but here’s what I need to know – are you, as Christian men, going to make those same choices every day, based in a deep-rooted desire to honor God? Because that’s what I want.

To sum, my brothers, I love and appreciate you for what you are trying to do when you write these open letters to your Christian sisters. It takes immense courage to stand up for your convictions and beliefs; it takes even more courage to lovingly rebuke someone in the name of Christ, “speaking the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:5). But that’s why I’m coming to you today – to speak the truth in love. I am asking you to check your privilege, and check your heart, that your rebukes come from a place of love, and not from a place of jealousy, envy, bitterness, command, power, or entitlement. When you speak to your Christian sisters, remember that though we may be different from you, we are not weak. We belong to the Lion of Judah, just as you do; we are warriors for Christ, just as you are. And just like us, you need to be saved, rescued, and loved with an everlasting love.

Here’s the happy ending to that story: we already have a Lover of our souls, and He’s waiting for us every moment of every day, to turn to Him and run into His arms.  My challenge to ALL my Christian brothers and sisters is this – can we stop putting each other on a pedestal, and start worshiping the Person who matters most? Let’s re-frame the conversation to be a bit more about Christ and a bit less about our “perfect mate.” 

Even more, let’s re-frame our language to speak about each other as equals and as co-heirs in Christ, as brothers and sisters, and NOT as objects or prizes to be won. But above all, keep the faith, and “encourage each other and build each other up, just as you are already doing” (1 Thess. 5:11).

With all my love in Christ,

-Cassidy

A Week of Thankfulness #3: Life!

Happy Turkey Day, everyone!

So today's thankfulness topic may be a little bit of a cop-out, but it's very true--I'm thankful for life, my life in particular. As I was flying this morning, heading to Texas to spend this weekend with some of my best friends in the entire world, it occurred to me that my life is VERY blessed. I'm so thankful for all of the wonderful gifts that God has given me--my family, friends, job, health... the list gets more detailed and goes on and on.

Suffice it to say, despite the ups and downs we experience, this life we live is pretty sweet. I'm thankful for my circumstances, I'm thankful for the joy I find (or try to find) in every day, and I'm thankful for life.

In honor of today being the kickoff of Hanukkah... L'chaim, and Happy Thanksgiv(ukkah)ing!

Missing.

Can you miss someone you've never met?

Loss and grief have been on my mind recently, as I'm sure they've been on many people's, considering that the 10th anniversary of the September 11 tragedy is coming up tomorrow. I'll briefly share my "where I was" moment--it was the fall semester of my eighth grade year, and the first I heard of the attacks was in my American History class, taught by Mr. Benson. I was thirteen years old, and not quite mature enough to understand the scale of the tragedy that day. It honestly didn't hit me until I came home after school that afternoon to my mom, sitting in a chair, watching our television and crying as though her heart were breaking. That my mother could weep for so many strangers hit me much harder than anything I had seen on TV that day, and I realized that our world had changed.

Thankfully, I didn't know anyone who perished in the tragic events of that day, although one of my uncles was in New York City at the time, in Tower 7 of the World Trade Center, and we didn't hear about his safety for a day or two after the 11th. But each year after, I have done my best to take a few moments and reflect on the sadness that that day represents, in the loss of so many lives, but also the unity it brings in inspiring our nation to come together, and the hope it stirs in so many people cooperating and rebuilding a city and each other's lives.

As I've become older, stories about September 11th touch me more and more deeply, bringing the grief that I didn't feel as a teenager but can now better understand as a young woman. Again, thankfully, I haven't had much personal loss in my life as of yet; not many of my immediate family members or close friends have passed away. But reflecting on the events of September 11th bring to mind the losses that I have felt. A beloved uncle, Steve, passed away in 2003. An unquestionable goofball, a musical genius, a sweet and kind man, Uncle Steve was hard to lose, and I still think of him often, at unexpected moments. Further back, my mom's mother passed away when I was three, when I was too little to remember the grief, and her father passed away before I was born, even before my parents got married. I never got to know this set of grandparents, and yet I miss them. I love when my mom and aunts and uncles tell stories about them; they bring them to life as the brilliant characters they were. Both loved music; both were devoted to their church, their faith, and their family. A picture from the time they were engaged, taken in the early 1940s, captures youthful joy--Nanny's hair is perfectly coiffed and she wears a stunning dress; Granddaddy looks handsome in his Navy uniform (he served in the Pacific theater on a submarine during World War II), and they both smile and glow with love. I never got to meet these amazing people, and yet I miss them. It saddens me that I never got to truly know this special part of my family; yet I know that Nanny and Granddaddy both look down on me with love and pride. I do as best as I can to make them proud, and when I do something that I am proud of, I think of them, and I can almost see them smile and know that they're proud of me too.

Can you miss someone you've never met? I believe, undoubtedly. I feel the absence of those who are gone; I do my best to make them proud.

On this 10th anniversary of September 11th, I finally begin to miss those who perished that day. Accounts of the bravery of the passengers of Flight 93 and the firefighters and policemen and citizens of New York who pulled people from the Twin Towers and Pentagon bring me to tears, as do stories of those of us who are left behind to, simply, miss them. Their absence leaves a hole in our lives, a hole that doesn't stop aching through the years.

Even so, this ache becomes more bearable, because I believe the ache can be assuaged with making those who are gone proud. I try to make my Nanny, my Granddaddy, and my Uncle Steve proud every day; I believe that remembrance and the bravery to rebuild will make proud the memory of those who died 10 years ago tomorrow.

We must not be afraid to miss those who are gone, but we also must not be afraid to unite in our grief, to comfort each other through it, and to look for the dawning of another day and a bright future. The future is bright--New York City unites to remember the lost; the World Trade Center is being rebuilt as a beacon of hope; Americans have a common event that can unite our purposes and make us one out of many, E Pluribus Unum.

To those who are gone, we miss you. We love you. We will make you proud.

Through the storms of life, we never walk alone

Readers,

I am a deeply spiritual person, and identify as a Christian. My faith is an important part of my life, and I rely on it to help me better love every single person around me.

Today, in my church, the Gospel reading was from Matthew, and it related the story of Jesus walking on water. For those of you who have grown up in a Christian church, this story will be familiar. For those of you who haven't grown up in a Christian church, let me give you a brief background. The context of this story takes place during Jesus's ministry, the time when He traveled all over Israel preaching the Gospel, the Good News, with His disciples.

In this story, Jesus leaves the disciples to go pray, and they're on a ship in the middle of the Sea of Galilee. A storm hits at night, and the disciples are scared. Jesus begins to walk across the water to them (one of His most famous Biblical miracles), and when they see Him, they become afraid, thinking He's a ghost. He assures them it is He, and Peter, one of Jesus' disciples, says, "Jesus, if it's you, call me to come to you across the water." Jesus calls Peter, and Peter gets out of the boat, and, miraculously, begins to walk across the water to Jesus. However, the storm is fierce, and Peter becomes afraid, and begins to sink. Jesus holds out His hand to Peter and saves him, and says, "Oh, you of little faith."

Throughout the different churches I've attended, and Bible studies I've participated in, I've heard a lot of discussions of this passage before; many of them talk about having the courage of Peter to GET OUT OF THE BOAT, a metaphor for having the courage to trust God and walk out into the storms of life, knowing that God is going to help us walk "across the water" and weather the storm. That's a huge challenge for me and for a lot of Christians--when times are bad, we want to rely solely on ourselves, to just stay in one spot on our little "boat," to be scared, and not let ourselves be thrown into (and changed by) the storm around us.

However, what happens when we DO choose to make the step out of the boat? I find a lot of Christians struggle with this, too, especially ME. Going to grad school was a huge step out of my "boat"--I felt called to enter the profession of student affairs, and it was a huge, trusting leap to make this move to Florida and to come to a new school, but I did it. But, now I'm here, in the middle of a sea, and the storms of life rage around me, and I question WHY I got out of my boat in the first place!

With grad school, and with many other situations in my life, it's not the step out of the boat that scares me the most, it's the walk through the storm to get to Jesus. The whole time, Jesus is saying, "Come to me. Trust me. Through me, you can do this. You can walk on this water. Trust me." And oftentimes, we take those first steps out of the boat, and we're exhilarated. "Yes, God!" we exult. "You are helping me! I'm trusting you! I'm walking on water, thank You so much!"

But then, what happens next? We lose sight of God... and the storm gets louder. We forget who gave us the ability to walk on the water in the first place, and we lose our focus on the reason WHY we're walking on water, and just start to focus on the water itself. Suddenly, everything is overwhelming. We're all alone, in the middle of a raging, storming sea. It's dark outside, it's cold, it's wet, and we got in over our heads. Who were we to think we could walk on water all by ourselves? We were CRAZY!

And thus, we start to sink. We lose sight of the One who called us out of the boat in the first place, we let the storm and sound and sea distract us, and we sink. We get down on ourselves, we're lonely, and we're SCARED.

And yet, we forgot that we WEREN'T alone on that sea.

Someone called us out there to walk with Him.

And all of a sudden, there He is. There's His hand. Grab it, it's held out to you, to me, to all of us.

Suddenly, the sea isn't so scary. The night isn't so dark. The whole time, we could have walked on the surface of the sea and been safe in the storm, if only we hadn't lost sight of the One who invited us into the storm in the first place.

And He saves us. He pulls us up from the depths. He comforts us, and, with the Love of a Father, He gently chides us. "Oh, you of little faith," He says. "How could you forget that I was here the whole time?"

In the storms of our lives, in the daily stresses and troubles and worries and pains, it's easy to lose sight of God. Although He calls us into living our lives fully in the first place, once we're in the midst of things, we look away. We think, "Hey, this isn't so bad. Look at me! I'm surviving! I'm walking on water! I've got this!"

And then, all of a sudden, things get worse. The stress gets overwhelming, the troubles mount, and the world gets dark and cold and lonely. We have lost sight of our Helper, and so we start to lose faith. We start to sink into self-pity, into doubt, and into fear. We feel like nothing can save us from the predicament we're in.

And yet, if we look up, there it is. There's His hand. God has been waiting, patiently, the whole time. Through the storm, He's been standing right there, calling us to Him. We lost sight of Him for a while, but that doesn't mean He left us. He's standing right there, waiting for us to call on Him again. He saves us from the storm; He lessens our stress and relieves our doubts and fears, and shows us that, through Him, anything is possible. He gently chides us, those of little faith, and reminds us that He'll ALWAYS be there. He's the one who wanted us to experience the storm in the first place, but He wants us to experience the storm with our sights on Him, holding His hand. Only then can we walk on water.

My friends, whether or not we share a spirituality or a faith, I pray that you NEVER feel alone in the storm. Help is always there, waiting for you to call out for it. Yes, we have to get out of the boat in the first place to experience life's storms, but we also have to be willing to call for help along the way, to remember that opportunities for help never abandon us. A source of help is always right there, waiting to stretch out a hand. Take it!