...It [The memoriam of the Virginia Tech. shooting] matters because people matter, and hundreds of people were affected by what happened a year ago. Thousands more sat by our televisions, shocked by the news... The ones who died were sons and daughters, best friends and brothers and neighbors. They would be mothers and husbands. They would be so many things. They were people with stories, and we would hope for them what we hope for ourselves, that we are early in these stories, that the best is yet to come.
It matters also because it rocked what we understood about safety and freedom. It matters because we saw a picture of evil and a picture of pain. We saw the power of choice and the danger of pain unchecked. Perhaps the shots that were fired came from a man who lost himself in his pain, and a man who felt alone. He gave up on his own story, and he stole the endings of stories never his to steal...
He's gone now, and they're gone now, and we're here with all our things: our questions, our classes, our country... It was said "Today, we're all Hokies", and i like that. Something feels true in those words, the possibility that the world can be small and we can be one in this. We can pause to remember the lives lost a year ago, but perhaps even more to say we know those stories don't end there. We know those stories represent and twist a touch a thousand other stories - family and friends and classmates and teachers... our thoughts and prayers are for them as well today, them and us with air still to breathe, questions still to wrestle, dreams still to chase...
Maybe the best thing we can do to remember Virginia Tech, to say those stories mattered, is to believe that our own stories matter. Today and tonight and tomorrow. That life is worth living, that we will run from neither fear nor dreams - we will learn to stare back at both. We will say we're not alone. We will say we need other people, and we will say there are people who need us. We will say community is essential, that we were meant to be better than alone. We were meant to be known.
Tonight we pause to remember. Stories that ended too soon, our own still off and running. And the possibility that the world can be small, that we're part of something bigger, all in this thing together.
To Virginia Tech and all the friends and family affected by the tragedy of one year ago: We are sorry beyond words. We can't begin to imagine. If a sentence ever could matter, we pray this might be one: We are with you. ~Jamie ~ http://myspace.com/jamiewrites
It's April 17th, 2008. On April 16th, 2007 - one year and one day previous, a man stood in the tower of a campus building at Virginia Tech, and shot anyone he could see. 32 of the people he shot from that tower were killed by his bullets - many more critically injured. When the tower was stormed by police, Seung-Hui Cho, the shooter, shot and killed himself.
And then it was over. The tragedy was complete. The people were dead - And life plodded on as it still does today. And here we are, "...with air still to breathe, questions still to wrestle, dreams still to chase..."
And here THEY aren't. And they've got nothing - Or that's what I've been told anyway.
But I believe something else. Or, rather - I believe there IS something else. And I hope there's this beautiful thing called grace...
~
I believed that death was a cycle. I believed hope was moving on and getting over pain, while avoiding to recognize that there WAS any pain in death to begin with. I thought everything would be great if, when someone died, we could all just move on because there are better things ahead. And there are. But death is something crazy. Death is, in a sense the end of life. I believe death is a new beginning and with that newness there is pain. Pain is not cool and pain can be dulled. But that's not enough. Pain needs to be defeated. And as much as I hate it, to defeat pain one must recognize pain - therefor acknowledging pain. And sometimes washing this pain away by tears is really the only way.
And it's in that spirit that I want you to remember hope and look up and forward. Let's offer healing and let's be healing and let's be healed. Let's be broken and let's be rebuilt.
Turn to someone is you need someone. Let's be rebuilt. Let's be broken.
~
And so, now we come to the "killer..." And for him as well, there's nothing left but grace - Or the possibility of it. Who am I to judge? All I have now is "Air still to breathe, questions still to wrestle, dreams still to chase..." And I have hope. And I have love. And I have this idea that Someone is holding everything together, I have this belief that everything will be okay. And somehow, this makes me breathe...
Who are the top five people that inspire you and why?
Well, hmmm... I can’t think of five at the moment. but.... I would have to say number one is - Jamie Tworkowski. that dude is so amazing. he has the biggest heart ever! he has an awesome gift and he’s done something so very beyond awesome with it. he’s inspired me to take all that I have been through and use it to help others. To Write Love On Her Arms has made such a big difference in so many life's.... I know they've made a huge difference in mine. after I read over some of their stories or watch one of their videos, I feel so inspired to do something unique in this world. & to be the person that i always thought i couldn't be. but most of all i look at everything, so differently now. like, i see the beauty in it all.& idk... like... its cool =]] no... wait.... its amazing.
I’m going to post the story that Jamie wrote. Go ahead and laugh at it. Or say it’s stupid. But keep it all to your self if that’s what you ‘think’…..
TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS by Jamie Tworkowski
"Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."
I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.
Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.
She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "FUCK UP" large across her left forearm.
The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.
She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.
I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes.
Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.
She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.
On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.
Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.
After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.
She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.
As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."
I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.
We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.
We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.
I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember."
“As if something was broken in the world and we were suppose to hold our palms against the wound“
Ok.... I'm like beyond sad guys! I miss everyone from Tennessee so much! I cried like the whole way home... not even kidding... =/ But, I cant wait to go back! Im like counting the days..... I dont like the number that I end up with but oh well, life goes on eh.... anyway thanks to Bitty I now know I should clarify something before I end this update: I DO LOVE MY FAMILY! And I was just kidding about wanting to live with the Whites! I freakin promise!!! anyway.... I was planing on putting some pictures on here but I didn't really take any.... bummer.... so I guess thats kinda all for now...
To Bethy: Even though i miss you alot... Chris Brown is still mine...! I love you but you cant have him.... sorry! lol
leave me comments guys... I hasn't gotten any in for ever...
Wow, so I went way to long without updating... I’m not the
best person when it comes to doing that. Sorry guys!
So, I went back home planning on staying but I decided to come back up to TN!
I have some pictures from in FL but I don’t feel like putting them up right
now. I really don’t feel good at all. My throat hurts, and I have a cold sore.
I strongly dislike cold sores! They take forever to go away and they hurt!
I was looking online for ways to make them go away / go away
faster. And it was the light up of my day to see what some people said you
should do. Although I will be honest, at first I was willing to do what they
said to but after Shay and Luke said it wasn’t the best idea I thought I would
just make fun of the people instead Now, I would type out what all the ‘different’
people said to do but it would take too long and I really don’t feel like doing
it
To go on with another subject, my sister’s 18 birthday is
coming up! I’m really sad I’m not going to be there. But I’ll be sure to call her like all day to make up for
it!
I’m thinking about shutting down my xanga. I never use it
anymore.I have like 4 of these that I don’t
use but still check them every day haha I know I’m odd.
Ok well heres something that’s random yet cool:
What happens when you take something that’s already on fire
and then nuke it….?
Pretty awesome right?
Lol well I guess that’s all for today! if i keep this xanga i'll update it more... Have a nice weekend everyone!
I never use it
anymore.
Pretty awesome right?
