Eighteen Years Ago

I can't remember exactly what I was doing eighteen years ago today.

I do know that I was just weeks (days) away from my college graduation. I was fine-tuning my teaching resume and sending it out to all the school districts in our area. I was probably cleaning up our tiny campus apartment so that I could show it off to my family when they came. I was also probably deciding what to pack when we moved to our temporary home in Texas for Tim's summer internship.

This Friday is April 19th. I definitely remember what I was doing on April 19, 1995.

My last semester of college classes was relatively light. I finished my student teaching in the fall, and I was just taking the remainder of the odds-and-ends classes needed for graduation. All of my classes except one were on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I made arrangements with the professor to complete that class without actually showing up for her lectures. I usually woke up on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays when the phone rang with the automated substitute teacher system from one of the school districts in our area.

On Wednesday, April 19, 1995, none of the schools in the area needed me to substitute, and I decided to go to that child development class, the one I rarely attended. Shortly after class started, the windows in our building rattled and the ground seemed to shake. We had no idea what was happening.

At 9:02 a.m. a bomb exploded in front of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in downtown Oklahoma City, about 12 miles south of campus. More than 680 people were injured and 168 people were killed, including 19 children under the age of 6.

Eighteen years ago I learned that bad things happen to good people.

I didn't understand then, and I still don't understand. I don't understand 9-11, Sandy Hook, or the bombings at the Boston Marathon either.

Eighteen years ago, I learned that love can triumph over evil. I learned that stories of kindness and faith and hope can be found in the midst of tragedy.

Eighteen years ago, I learned that sometimes the best thing that you can do is pray and that sometimes your heart aches wishing you could do more.

Eighteen years ago, I trusted that God was still in control, even when things don't make sense . . .  perhaps especially when things don't make sense.


Since Eighteen starts with E, I'm going to count it as my contribution to Blogging Through the Alphabet this week.

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