I wanted to pause to remember today. September 11. It used to be just another day. Weird, huh. I guess that's how life is. You live life pre and post events.
Jonathan was asking questions in the car today about 9/11. I answered as best I could. Matthew said, "well, that's dumb. They died when the plane hit the buildings." (talking about the terrorists) How do you explain suicidal terrorists who hate America to kids? "Why do they hate Americans, Mommy?" I honestly don't know. Sure, some will quote theories on the big bad bully America-how it's our screwed up foreign policy that spurred on the bad guys. Yadayada. I don't buy that. It's Satan. He hates our country--he hates our freedom. Freedom is the thing he wanted to deny us--he didn't trust in the Father enough to want any of us, himself included, to have freedom to choose. So he is able to stir up anti-America sentiment since it's not a perfect world, not a perfect country.
I have a small ache inside when I remember this day, seven years ago. Confusion, anger, hurt, sadness, shock, disbelief, relief . . . what emotion didn't I feel that day? Perhaps happiness--yeah, it was closer to relief than happiness that my children and husband were with me. That no one I knew or loved was involved in 9-11. Selfish relief, I suppose. You know that feeling--phew, glad that's not my trial.
So, I wrote the following thoughts in a comment on my friend's blog
Thanks Amy for your thoughts today. I almost did forget . . . over the past week, the upcoming anniversary would pass through my thoughts--as it does every once in a while, all of the time. Seven years have passed. Jonathan was 2. Matthew was months old. Then this morning, in the rush to get everyone into the car and get Jon to Shop-Ko on time, I didn't even think about it--till we backed out of the driveway and saw the flags lining the street. I love that sight. I really do. I love those flags blowing softly in the breeze. Moving with the wind. Anyhow, eventually I got KSL turned on and they were broadcasting the ceremony at Ground Zero. The names, once again, being read. One by one. The woman reading the names at the time read her father's name. A firefighter. It was such a surreal day. I had nightmares about it for a while. We had been to NYC the summer of 2000 and didn't take the time to go up in the towers--just thought they would always be there. We would do it next time we made it out to NYC. I remember, like you, watching TV day after day, hour after hour. The continous news feed at the bottom of the screen. I also remember listening to the radio and you know those radio mixes they put on there with the people calling their loved ones or whatever mixed with song--I think then the song was Hero. I remember specifically driving up to BYU to pick up Jon from class, listening to that song, bawling like a baby. What else to say . . . such a time of reflection on all we have. All we are blessed with. A time to remember. A time to pray.
It's how I felt immediately after reading her post.
God bless America.
Jonathan was asking questions in the car today about 9/11. I answered as best I could. Matthew said, "well, that's dumb. They died when the plane hit the buildings." (talking about the terrorists) How do you explain suicidal terrorists who hate America to kids? "Why do they hate Americans, Mommy?" I honestly don't know. Sure, some will quote theories on the big bad bully America-how it's our screwed up foreign policy that spurred on the bad guys. Yadayada. I don't buy that. It's Satan. He hates our country--he hates our freedom. Freedom is the thing he wanted to deny us--he didn't trust in the Father enough to want any of us, himself included, to have freedom to choose. So he is able to stir up anti-America sentiment since it's not a perfect world, not a perfect country.
I have a small ache inside when I remember this day, seven years ago. Confusion, anger, hurt, sadness, shock, disbelief, relief . . . what emotion didn't I feel that day? Perhaps happiness--yeah, it was closer to relief than happiness that my children and husband were with me. That no one I knew or loved was involved in 9-11. Selfish relief, I suppose. You know that feeling--phew, glad that's not my trial.
So, I wrote the following thoughts in a comment on my friend's blog
Thanks Amy for your thoughts today. I almost did forget . . . over the past week, the upcoming anniversary would pass through my thoughts--as it does every once in a while, all of the time. Seven years have passed. Jonathan was 2. Matthew was months old. Then this morning, in the rush to get everyone into the car and get Jon to Shop-Ko on time, I didn't even think about it--till we backed out of the driveway and saw the flags lining the street. I love that sight. I really do. I love those flags blowing softly in the breeze. Moving with the wind. Anyhow, eventually I got KSL turned on and they were broadcasting the ceremony at Ground Zero. The names, once again, being read. One by one. The woman reading the names at the time read her father's name. A firefighter. It was such a surreal day. I had nightmares about it for a while. We had been to NYC the summer of 2000 and didn't take the time to go up in the towers--just thought they would always be there. We would do it next time we made it out to NYC. I remember, like you, watching TV day after day, hour after hour. The continous news feed at the bottom of the screen. I also remember listening to the radio and you know those radio mixes they put on there with the people calling their loved ones or whatever mixed with song--I think then the song was Hero. I remember specifically driving up to BYU to pick up Jon from class, listening to that song, bawling like a baby. What else to say . . . such a time of reflection on all we have. All we are blessed with. A time to remember. A time to pray.
It's how I felt immediately after reading her post.
God bless America.
No comments:
Post a Comment