Remembering 9-11 in a World of Refugees

I remember exactly where I was on 9-11 in 2001. It doesn't seem like fourteen years ago, does it.

I was home with a migraine, wondering if my pounding symptoms would subside enough for me to drive 90 minutes to our new offices in Andover. Lying on the couch with a washcloth over my eyes I flipped the remote listening for something to divert my mind. This isn’t what I was hoping to hear.

A sudden break in the broadcast thrust me into a reality so shocking it seemed unreal. Everyone scrambled to make sense out of it. Since it is impossible to conceive of anyone planning to do such a thing purposefully, I assumed the pilot died of a heart attack.

Minutes later, we watched in horror as a second full-sized passenger plane slammed into the shoulders of the neighboring skyscraper, slicing into its iron side like a dagger.  People on the ground were screaming and running in all directions. Air traffic was grounded as tensions rose.

I remember thinking, this is the beginning of the end. If terrorists are living right here among us, how can we fight such an enemy? I called my kids, but my son was studying in Orange County, California at the time. It was 5:45 a.m. when I woke him, “Jesse, turn on the news! America is under attack!”

Sadly, we know that some offices inside the towers were broadcasting for everyone to stay where they were and remain calm. But there was chaos and confusion. A stream of people started fleeing for their lives as fire and smoke engulfed the upper stories. Cell phones went down. First responders couldn’t communicate.  

It was sheer terror, like something you could only imagine on a sci-fi movie of epic proportions. People jumped to their deaths, and monumental skyscrapers collapsed in a mushroom cloud of dust in the middle of New York City.

Heroes rushed in. Many, while engulfed in dust and fumes, stopped to help or carry others. Caring humanity emerged, shining like beacons in our darkest hours. Their sacrifices will never be forgotten. Government employees forgot party disputes and joined to sing God Bless America on the steps of the White House that day. Churches started filling up. People were suddenly unashamed to pray or wave flags as we bonded in grief, and patriotism soared. 

The events of that fateful day punctured deeply into the heart of America. It was a fast introduction to the kind of events that formed and fine-tuned the character of the WWII generation. Pearl Harbor-like. Waking up to the realization that we are all Americans here and we need one another. Terrible, frightening, but uniting us like steel. 

Here we are, fourteen years later. Not only have we changed as a nation, but the world is a different place. Now, there are 60 million people including women and small children fleeing for their lives from warring nations and the horrors of terrorism. I just heard there are half a million children under five years old trying to walk to freedom in Nigeria alone. Can you even imagine this army of little ones in such harsh conditions, endeavoring to reach a safe place to live?

Dear God, give us the courage and conviction to do our part! Let us welcome the weary wounded in the world with open arms, just as our own forefathers came to Ellis Island with the simple hope of living free. Make our nation truly charitable and truly strong in these times too, a land of freedom that continues to stand for the dignity of every man, woman and child. Show us what we can do, and help us to do the right thing. 

Or, as one man wrote on a battleground not far from New York, “The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract… It is… for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” Abraham Lincoln, 1863

God bless and preserve America, and continue to let our light shine as a beacon of hope to the world!

Part III - Ride the Wind

I keep writing about the wind because I need to stay focused on the power and presence of God while my life is in transition.  It's been remarkable to observe this simple but profound illustration that is physically present, all around us. I've been contemplating its silence, its unpredictability, its force, and of course, its illustration of the invisible yet omnipresent God I love.

Wind can be a gentle refreshing on a hot day, or it can snap giant trees in one frightful blast of hurricane strength. Wind takes different forms, from a breeze to a cyclone! Like Jesus, the first time he came as an infant, then riding on a humble donkey, but the next time he will come as a king, with a blast in the skies bringing judgment with his armies. A time for all things, from sweet mercy to severe judgment.

No wonder Jesus referred to the wind when he met a confused priest in the middle of the night and introduced him to heavenly things. (John 3) Wherever you are on the planet, wind  illustrates and reminds us of the all-powerful and gentle, the essential and life-giving Spirit of God who created it.

Yesterday afternoon as I sat on my favorite Adirondack chair in the yard chewing chicken stir-fry and mulling over a tangle of jumbled thoughts, a little white puffball floated down from the pines and hovered before my eyes. It was fairy-like, like Peter Pan’s Tinkerbell.

It was about an inch in size, perfectly rounded and whole, and strikingly silent and peaceful. It came down from the trees above me, danced right in my line of vision for about five seconds, then flitted off, obscured in the garden. I’ve never seen one like it, and God’s timing, as always, was impeccable. I wanted to take a picture but it was gone with a breath of air, leaving me to ponder the sweet sense of God’s smile peeking over the treetops at me.

I laughed out loud. Lord! You know my anxious thoughts and sent this sweet reminder of your presence. Thank you, Father!Oddly, there were no others to be found, though I watched for them. I had even been searching the web for such an image to illustrate the presence of the wind for previous posts. 

It strikes me as I’m recording this little episode, how God delights to surprise and uplift us. And how many times in my life that occurs when I am busy chasing thoughts around my scattered brain! It’s as though God himself is interrupting my mental ping pong to make a point. As if to say once again, “Karen, I’m still here. You are not alone. Rest in my presence.”

The Lord calls my attention to something fabulous, and liberating, and delightful. He brings pure JOY into a muddled moment. God’s presence, and the reminder of his omniscience over the details of my life, scatters every impulse to worry or fret, when I am doing just that!

Why bother to figure out my way since I have no power to complete it? It’s like wrestling with a map in foreign terrain, turning it this way and that, looking for street names and dinky numbers and you realize you are lost. Life can be so confusing!

Then, the Lord pulls up in a limo and says with a wink, “I’ll take you where you need to go. Hop in.”  This is the modern version of Matthew 11:28-30. It's an invitation to find rest for my soul by coming to him.

Rather than sitting in the driver’s seat and stressing over all the details, He’s at the wheel and invites you to ride shotgun as a travel companion, and enjoy the trip! Which would you rather do?

Choose to trust God. You can rest in the presence of the ever-present maker of the wind and let Him direct your path. Proverbs 3:5-6 says, "Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths." 

God, help me to remember that you’ve got it. You’ve got me. You’ve got the plan and the whole map in clear view.