I Will Never Forget: My 9/11

My pastor spoke about 9/11 Sunday morning, on the 10th anniversary of the tragedy.  He read several of the stories about the people who were there and some of the people who narrowly escaped their sure deaths for various reasons.  They showed a video of news clips and photographs of the event.  My daughter, now 6 and hearing about it for the first time, sat staring at the screens, tears streaming down her face.

"Mom, were you there?" she asked.  Did you feel the towers shake and crumble and fall?  Could you hear the screams?  How close were you?  Were you hurt?  Was someone you know hurt?

"No, baby, but I watched it on TV as it was happening."  And felt every bit of sadness and confusion and terror in my soul.  Heard the screams ringing in my head.

"Did this REALLY happen?"  Eyes wide, afraid of the answer.  The horror in her eyes depicted one more piece of childlike innocence lost, that innocence that believes nothing this bad could ever happen in real life.

"Yes, it did."  And her world crumbles.

"WHO did this?"  Surely not someone in my life, someone I can relate to, look up to, respect.  What kind of person could do something this MEAN?

Who, indeed.  The bad guys?  The enemy?  To them, we were the enemy and they were simply doing work they could be proud of in the afterlife.

We had special prayer at church for the families of the victims during that service.  Each adult who walked in to the church was given two strips of paper.  On each strip was one name of a person who lost their life on 9/11.  My daughter held those pieces of paper in her hands as I held her close to my heart, and we prayed and cried for their families.

Then we prayed for the families of the people who flew the planes into the buildings on that day.

Never, in my wildest dreams, would I ever imagine myself praying for them.  But isn't that what Jesus did while he was on the cross?  He prayed for God to forgive the people who put Him there.  And aren't we supposed to follow His example in all things?

Pastor said we all have our own personal 9/11.  Events in our lives that stand out like no other.  Times We Will Never Forget.  Where we were, what it smelled like, who was around us, how time stood still and nothing else mattered.  Sunday morning, as I held my daughter and watched her heart bleed for people she never met, was one of those moments.

I made this list of some important events in my life that have happened in the last ten years.  Some good, some bad.  And there are others so personal that I can not mention them.

In the Last Ten Years, I:

• Drove a van through a stop sign, across a busy highway, over a ditch, and into a wall of trees, crumpling the van like an accordion.  Neighbors pulled me out through the window, with not a scratch on me.  I survived.

• Slept for a week in the ER waiting room praying for a friend who was thrown from and run over by a truck, breaking his neck in the process.  You could see the tire marks across his shirt, but not a single rib was so much as fractured.  He survived.

• Married one amazing man and we have spent seven very extraordinary years together.  Full of laughter, tears, anger, joy.  And I love him more today than I did the day I walked down the aisle towards the man at the front with the red face and tears streaming down.  He survived (so far).

• Gave birth to a gorgeous ten-pound Baby Girl Coffey, with bright blue eyes and brown hair and fair skin.  In spite of many issues surrounding that pregnancy and delivery, she survived.

• Held my eighteen-month-old daughter as my last remaining biological grandfather was laid to rest.  Knew how special he was and how much I would miss the fact that my daughter would not remember him.  We survived.

• Watched the screen, horrified, as the second plane flew into the second tower.  Confused.  Terrified.  Praying.  Thousands survived.  Thousands Did Not Survive.

Survival is not a given, but if you are blessed to live through something, whether good or bad, make the most of it.

The Bible speaks of horrible things that will take place in the "last days".  I think of 9/11 as just the beginning.  However, we can remember the tragedy of that day without living in the fear of what may happen.  We can honor the memory of those who lost their lives without bunkering down and hiding from life.  There is a season for everything, a time to mourn and a time to laugh.

I choose to remember the heartache, but look forward to the hope we have, that all things work together for the good.  Keep your heart right, priorities straight.  Pause to reflect, then keep on reaching for your peace.