Ten Years Later

I was carrying two heavy textbooks and a notebook and pen in the crook of my arm through a hallway lined in lockers when I heard a swell of panicked voices rise up out of the mass of fellow high schoolers making their way to class.  As I turned the corner and walked into my sophomore Spanish class, I suddenly knew why the voices had raised in the hall.

On the television screen hanging in the corner of the classroom was the image of a huge building on fire.  The smoke billowed out of the top of the tower in a tunnel of black, and as I made my way into the room and stood next to my desk, my eyes joined the rest of the eyes in the room glued to the screen.

I'll never forget the stillness of that moment.  The horror.  No one knew what was happening- only that the World Trade Center was on fire and something awful was unfolding right before our eyes.  A wide-eyed sophomore, I stood there, motionless, watching and waiting for an explanation, a reason why, a reassurance that everything was OK- that everything would be alright. My heart was racing, my throat tight, my eyes stinging with confusion and fear and anxiety.

Then we watched the second plane hit the other tower.  It was horrific, and in the moments following the second plane, we watched in disbelief as both the buildings collapsed in on themselves.  The moments and hours that followed were all the same.  We watched all day long, in each class the continuing coverage of the terrorist attacks on September 11.  When we got home from school, my dad was there waiting for us.  The TV was on at home, as it had been at school all day.  We cried for the people who were gone, and prayed for those who were waiting for rescue.  We watched as heroes ran into the rubble and carried others out.  The coverage continued to roll late into the night and into the days and weeks to follow.  Our hearts squeezed for the families of the victims and rejoiced with the families of the found.  It was a day I will never forget.

Ten years ago I was a sophomore in high school.  A year after the attacks, my family took a trip to New York to experience the city and visit Ground Zero.  At that time, the place where the towers fell had been cleared, but in their place were two empty holes where the foundation had been.  Torn wires twisted out of the foundation, and construction trucks were parked in each of the two remaining pits. The buildings surrounding the site were still covered in plastic, the windows having been blown out.  The streets surrounding Ground Zero were peppered in memorials- firefighter hats tied to fence posts, flowers resting on the sidewalk against walls plastered in pictures and notes.  It was a humbling experience, a time to remember.

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Ten years later, I am a 26 year old wife and momma, and grateful to be an American.  Yesterday my husband and I went to church with our son then took another opportunity to remember the victims of September 11, 2001.  We drove out to The Healing Field, where volunteers had placed a flag in the ground for each of the victims lost in the tragedy that took place 10 years ago.  Each flag held the name and description of someone who had been lost that day.

Walking the length of the field, treading through the depths of flags, gently lifting the tags to read the names and the stories of so many people was incredibly sobering.  It was hard to imagine so much life lost and to connect what I was seeing to what I remembered from that day ten years before.

 

As I took in the depth of tragedy and loss,  I was humbled by the thought that  numerous lives are lost each day across the world- that each country across the globe has its own story to tell- its own tragedies to mourn, its own fields to fill with memories of lives lost to brokenness and evil.   The thought was overwhelming, but  I was comforted by the truth that God is in control.  I was comforted by the reassurance that He can bring beautiful things out of the dust.

I was encouraged by the truth that what we do today matters.  That there is power in humbling ourselves and praying for what's broken because He is doing a new thing, and He is in the business of healing the hearts of many.

If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land. 

2 Chronicles 7:14

 

We were blessed to have the opportunity to remember together as a family yesterday.  To remember the loss of our country ten years ago, but also to remember God's goodness and grace.  To look back and think of where we were that day and where we are now.  To reflect on the blessing that is our freedom.  To be humbled, to pause, and to consider the gifts that come with being an American.  To have a moment to extend hearts of gratitude toward the service men and women who fight for our freedom each and every day. 

It was good to take the time to remember and to mourn and to pray.

It was good to take a moment to think about what it means to live a life of gratitude.

 

Ten years after September 11, 2001, I am encouraged in knowing that even in the midst of loss and uncertainty, God is always good and always right and loves us deeper than we will ever know.  Ten years later, I am a 26 year old wife and momma, and I am grateful to be an American.