September 11, 2014
How can it be September 11 and it not be a day of remembering. Thirteen years ago this morning I hit my knees in the sanctuary of the church where I was working and prayed. It was the only response I knew to being shocked and afraid. It was Who I knew to go to, especially since I was alone in the building (I was the secretary at the time and the pastor was with a woman whose husband had died that morning after a long illness).
After spending a long time in prayer, what I wanted to do next was run to my own husband and hold him tight. And I wanted to be with my mother, the one who had first called to tell me what was going on (I thought she was kidding or watching some crazy movie on television). And I couldn’t help but think of all those people who would never hold their loved ones again - all because...
It was hard to believe this had happened. It was frightening to think what might be next. It was heartbreaking that hate had prompted this response.
The congregation where I was worshiping gathered that evening for a worship/prayer service. We prayed, we cried, we heard the promise of God in scripture, but mostly we came together just to be together. There wasn’t much we could do, for the events had taken place a long way away. But we could be in community with people we knew and trusted and loved.
Now, thirteen years later, there is a whole generation of folks living who were not even born when this horrible day happened. They do not know what life was like before 9/11, nor what it was like on that particular day. It’s like those that came after Pearl Harbor, the stock market crash, the Civil War, etc. I cannot imagine what people were feeling then - the angst, the fear, the seeking answers and hope.
Will we never learn from the pain of history how to live with and love one another?! I suppose we will, one day, when God’s perfect timing comes!