Reflections on September 11

I didn't have a blog 4 years ago on September 11, 2001. I did have lots of thoughts and emotions flowing through my head, just like every other American. I realized that this would be one of those days when I would recall to my children what I was doing when I first heard of the horror taking place in New York City. It was a beautiful Tuesday morning in New York and in Wisconsin too. So nice, in fact, that my mom and I took a short morning walk together. Chris and I had been married roughly 3 months and lived right down the street from my parents. After the walk, I got ready for school and work and headed up to campus where I would work for an hour before chapel. I think it was Mrs. G. who bustled past me, worriedly talking about disaster and chaos. The TV was on in the teachers' lounge, and for the rest of the morning I, along with others who worked in the area, was in and out, checking what was going on. I was watching when the first building collapsed.

I remember lying in bed that night, talking with Chris about it all. We prayed for the victims, and as I tried to go to sleep, I couldn't help thinking that, as I lay in my comfortable bed next to my new husband, thousands of people's lives had irrevocably changed as they knew it, and some lives had ended. And, the horrific though occurred to me, that it was likely that there was a woman like me - who had lain in bed with her husband the night before - who was now trapped beneath rubble, waiting, praying, hoping that someone would rescue her. I cried at the thought, and prayed for that woman.

Now, four years later, it's easy for someone like me to go through this day with nothing but a passing thought about all that happened that day and in the days to follow. But, no doubt, there are many families spread across the U.S. today who can't escape the grim reality of that day. There are far too many that are slowly healing from wounds caused by losing someone they loved - or everyone they worked with. But, there are also many who live to tell stories of survival and healing. I cannot always sing the praises of America. But, one thing I can say, Americans are fighters; when they get knocked down, they get up again. I know we will see this same spirit again in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.

Some believers were hopeful that 9/11 would bring a sort of spiritual revival to America. I don't have much faith in America as a "Christian nation." Fortunately, my hope rests not the spirituality of my country, but in Jesus Christ - who will, one day, be confessed by every tribe and tongue as Lord of Heaven and Earth. Until then, our hearts will continue longing . . .