My alarm went off, I hit snooze. Snooze. And again another snooze. I took my long, yet routine drive to South Bend. It’s rainy, but not raining. 35 MPH the whole way there. Too slow for me. Too many stop lights. Too many kids walking to school. I drop off Mads, and continue my drive. I’m listening to Pulse FM on the way there, switching back and forth between that and U93. Rob and AJ are talking about 9/11. Yesterday I started crying just watching a memorial commercial (is that what you would call it?) about the Ground Zero memorial opening this year. Anyway, they’re talking about this being the 10th year since that devastating day. Rob and AJ asked callers to call in and talk about where they were on that day, 10 years ago.
10 years ago I was taking ISTEP in the fourth grade. Mom was 9 months pregnant with Elizabeth. Dad had just been laid off. We sat glued to the TV when I got off the bus. I knew nothing until I got home (When I think about the fact we weren’t told at school, it upsets me, but I understand the reasoning).
I’m listening to these people call in, and I’m raining by this point. Tears streaming down my face as I wait at a stop light, watching kids cross. Watching students walk to school. Watching them continue with their daily routine as a woman is talking on the radio about getting ready to leave for the South Bend airport that morning. About how it felt like any other day until she saw that second plane hit the tower on TV. How she fell to the ground.
How fast things can change.
I think what gets me the most is how much I take this for granted. I don’t think about 9/11 all the time, but the woman who lost her husband does every day. The family of the firefighter who never came home to his kids, they don’t need reminded. I remember I gave a speech during a convocation in 4th grade about 9/11. We talked about it as a class, as a school, as a community, as a country. We’ll talk about it again now. We don’t forget, but we don’t always remember. What happened that day, and the days to follow affect me more today, this morning, then they did when I was 9. The images, the videos, as I’m torturing myself watching them online now. This morning it hurt my heart. This morning I felt 9/11. I don’t think I could say that before.
I felt the terror, the pain, the smoke entering their lungs as the flames grew bigger. I could feel the seat belt get tighter as the plane began to descend. My body grew tighter. My muscles. I could feel the screams. The debris. I could see people jumping (that is one of the worst parts to watch). The fear. And I know what I could feel, still doesn’t even compare to that day: to that family, that friend, that lover.
"Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things. The things you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you. Philippians 4:8-9"
ReplyDelete"Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” Isaiah 46:4"
It's important to remember, and to care for those who have lost much, but to only remember the terror and horribleness is what the enemy wants. Fear is from the enemy, but overcoming evil is from God. Don't let the enemy trick you into heartache and knowing such pain, instead of heartfelt compassion for those who endured it first hand. (Sorry I don't mean to preach, but I've found that a tactic of the enemy is to make people believe they have to experience the same hurt which can cause resentment to God and his/their work is doubly widespread. Anyway God is in control and thankfully by His grace it wasn't worse. Sorry again if this came out wrong....I just wanted to encourage you on what sounded like a hard day) God Bless! :)