(Cooling off in the San Marcos River, circa 2019)

Did you know that Texas school children say the pledge of allegiance to the American flag and to the Texas flag each morning? 

Honor the Texas flag
I pledge allegiance to thee, Texas,
One state, under God, 
One and indivisible

I didn’t even know it was unusual until one of my best friends, who’s from Washington state, told me they don’t do that there. 

You see, I’m a Texan. Born and raised.

I had a brief affair with Oklahoma in my twenties, but even then, I was still a Texan. I remember driving to the Texas/Oklahoma border whenever I needed to feel better. Something about crossing that state line made all of my problems disappear for a minute. 

I grew up learning to drive on West Texas back roads (when I was much too young to be doing that), learning to ride a horse with my uncle, and bottle feeding baby calves.

I’ve been tubing down the Brazos, swam in Jacob’s Well with my kids, stopped mid-road trip to cool off in the San Marcos river, and I’ve slept on the beach in Port Aransas more times than I can count.

I’ve done the River Walk in San Antonio, house sat for my brother in Corpus Christi, taken dolphin tours in South Padre, had fancy dinners at the top of reunion tower, and eaten donuts at 2 am after dancing the night away on Sixth Street in Austin.

I lived in the Rio Grande Valley for a little while and I frequently walked across the border to Nuevo Progreso, Mexico, where I would buy my contact lenses, get a pedicure, and eat some really good street tacos. 

I remember seasons passes to Six Flags in Arlington, fireworks and field trips at the old Rangers stadium, and meeting Emmitt Smith at the sports shop my dad used to own (okay, I don’t actually remember that one but I’ve heard the stories). 

We used to eat at the old Black Eyed Pea by the stadium all the time back in the 90s. All the players went there and my brother would get his kids menu autographed by guys like Pudge Rodriguez and Jose Canseco. I cried when the Rangers lost the world series and I cried even harder when they won. 

Bluebonnets. Big Tex. Whataburger. HEB. Selena. Willie. George Jones (my great aunt actually dated him for a little while). 106.1 KISS FM – the original Kidd Kraddick in the Morning. Dinosaur Valley State Park. Tamales from a truck on the side of a rural highway. Driving for hours through the pandhandle and stopping to take pictures of the wind turbines because it looks like something out of a painting. Stargazing at the observatory out in Keene.. or simply on some back road on your way home from the coast. Kolaches at The Czech Stop. Glass bottomed boat rides in San Marcos.

Did you know San Marcos is the mermaid capital of Texas?  I did.

I’m a Texan. 

 I have been that 8 year old little girl, attending summer camp in Central Texas. I didn’t attend the ones affected by this flood, but I did nervously pack my trunk each of those summers and spend weeks away from home, making memories with my friends in the heart of our great state. 

My kids and I are safe and dry right now in the suburbs of DFW and I am eternally grateful. But like everyone else, I’m also utterly heartbroken by the events unfolding just a few hours southwest of us. 

The river system pictured at the top of this post, usually so clear and beautiful and full of life, has brought an incomprehensible kind of wreckage to the very heart of the Lone Star State. I swear I can feel its shuddering sobs from here.

It’s unfathomable. 

I share my experiences as a Texan because while the whole world is grieving this tragedy, we’re hurting in a different way. Most of us have memories on that river. My own daughter was there not long ago with friends. If not the Guadalupe, then some other piece of Texas just as significant to us. There isn’t a corner of this state that isn’t woven into who I am, and I know that’s true for most Texans.

For so many of us, this has torn at the fabric of who we are.

And despite how massive our state is, we’re still small-town people at heart. The families camping there came from all over the state. And they are being mourned by people all over the state.

My own local community has at least three direct connections to the missing that I’m aware of, and it’s highly possible that there are more.

This was one of the busiest weekends of the year at one of our most treasured destination spots.  I’m sure it’s the same story all across Texas right now.

We all feel it.

Please pray. Pray for the families of the missing and the dead. Pray for the first responders. Pray for our government officials at the local and state levels. Pray for Texans everywhere as we try to wrap our heads around this tragedy and support our brothers and sisters who are suffering the most. 

As you probably know, the city of Kerrville was one of the hardest hit by the flood. They’re currently working with the Salvation Army for volunteers and donations. 

If you feel called to assist, you can find out more below. 

[Help Texans Recover from the Devastating Floods]

In the coming days and weeks, I’ll send out more information regarding relief efforts. I plan to go down to the area and volunteer in person with my church as soon as we can get officially organized.

Until then, I’ll be praying right alongside you, holding out hope for some kind of a miracle. 

If you’ve read this far, thank you. I know it was lengthy, but I hope it gives you some insight into what it means to be a Texan and how this tragedy is affecting us all. Every Texan has their own unique stories. But we are all knit together by the vibrant culture, the landmarks, and  (most importantly) the people that make this great state home. 

 God bless you. God bless everyone affected by this horrific flood. And God bless Texas.

Emily
Owner | Marketing Strategist 
Eden Impact Marketing