“Commitment” is a word that can stir up some awfully conflicting feelings. Up to the point I got married I avoided the word as much as possible. When I did confront the issue along with my vows, it dawned on me that in committing to my husband, I was really committing to myself. That realization has proven true. Likewise, I reached a point in my life where I was tired of moving every two or three years, in part because I was never in one place long enough to put down roots. My profession was in the arts, and the vicissitudes of my professional necessitated frequent moves. I loved my work, but I wanted to be able to commit to a community, to become a part of something bigger than myself. Coming back home to SWVA, buying a home we could afford, and becoming involved in community projects has given me a sense of connectedness I hadn’t known before. I feel that I get back so much more than I give, and in the process I am teaching my children that service to others is more important than finding out “what’s in it for me”.

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