We Remember . . .

I was sitting on the floor in my living room, surrounded by toys and the couch cushions I used at the time to keep my son Nathan (then 7 mos.) and his cousin Tyler (then 11 mos.) away from things like the TV and VCR.

At the time I liked to watch the Early Show on CBS, I think because of the Survivor updates they had. And I remember watching the "breaking news" as it unfolded, and Bryant Gumbel's commentary on it. And I remember thinking, "wow, that is really wacky, I can't believe something like that could happen." A plane crashing into a huge building in the middle of NYC. And I immediately started praying, grateful that I couldn't think of anyone in my family being on an airplane at that moment, yet so sad for all the families that were scared to death about their own loved one being on a plane that moment. I imagined the frantic phone search so many wives and moms and husbands and brothers and sisters and friends were doing at that moment, to try to make sure their loved one wasn't on the plane that crashed into one of the towers. And I remember the fear that welled up in my middle when the second plane crashed, and I almost immediately worried that something was really wrong, two planes having crashed into two buildings right next to each other.
And I looked at my precious two little boys (one of them borrowed) and thought, literally with tears in my eyes, "What kind of world have I brought my kids into?"

Even though I knew my husband wasn't in danger, I remember calling him just to check in. "Have you heard what's going on?" "Yes." "I can't believe this, this is so scary. And now another plane into the Pentagon. What's going on?" (I don't think I knew about the last plane at that time)

In the days to follow, I remember hearing from my folks in NJ of a few people we knew that were touched by this tragedy. And I remember the almost-guilt I felt that I wasn't directly affected, that my sadness wasn't real, that so many people were truly suffering loss and I was closed off in my safe little world.

I remember looking back to when my family had visited one of the towers and had climbed to the top several years before. How scary it was to stand there, behind the glass windows and look down to the ground. And I remember that Tuesday morning, being so scared for those people whose desperation was so great they were willing to jump out a window to escape the torturous heat and flames.

And I remember the pride I felt that so many Americans reached out to the hurting. I remember the strong desire I had to fly my american flag. To show I supported the country, that we were going to stand together. I remember wishing that I lived in NY, so I could drive over and help out.

I'm still proud of America. I'm proud that we remember and that we don't seem to want to stand down from people who would hurt us and try to destroy us. I'm sorry that it takes tragedy to form a bond among people sometimes, but I'm hopeful that it will continue to bond us into a strong, united country again. Our only hope is in Christ, and I pray that His Spirit will help me reach the lost--forming the only bond that will hold us together for eternity.