Yesterday was a day to remember...where we were the moment we heard the terrible news. This is an event that not only impacted and defined my generation, but my daughters' as well.
You see I was too young to remember the day JFK was assassinated...my mom said she had just walked in the door from my 6 week old doctor check-up when her mother-in-law called with that terrible news. Too young to experience first hand Bobby Kennedy's or Martin Luther King Jr.'s violent premature demise.
But when the attack occurred on home soil I was a 30-something stay-at-home mom of two little girls. On that September morning, 10 years and 1 day ago, I was going about my normal routine. The Man had left bright and early as usual...well actually it was dark and early...before the sun and the chickens (not that we had any) were up to jump on one of those So. Cal. freeways to make at 35 mile commute to work...which would take him about an hour and a half. Being the
great...
good...decent wife that I am, I got up early to pack his lunch, find his keys (he is soooo not a morning person) and head him in the direction of his work truck. I then headed off for my time with the Lord and to begin the morning puttering around the house.
The school district we lived in back then was a year-around track program. Three months 'on' for my girls and one month 'off'. We were on our 'off month' so the little kindergarten girl and big 3rd grader (or so she thought) were snuggled in their beds when the phone rang. It was my husband on his company dispatch truck phone. That didn't happen often...something must be up!
I could tell by the tone of his voice that something bad had happened. He is never one to panic or over react so a slight strange unfamiliar twist to his speech pattern was enough to make the little hairs on my arms stand straight up. I remember him telling me to turn the TV on...that he had heard on the radio that a plane had crashed into a building in New York...and that he had a feeling that it was more than just a terrible accident.
I flipped the TV on and remember hearing Katie Courics voice while seeing pictures of people surrounded by and covered in ash and smoke. I was trying to communicate to my husband what I was seeing, what I was hearing when I saw the second plane hit. The reporter on the news thought it was film footage of the first plane for just a moment...and then the reality of what we were all seeing hit like a ton of bricks...my husband's hunch was right - this wasn't just a horrible accident...this was on purpose!
I don't know if it was his previous military experience or the nudging of the Holy Spirit that clued the Man into the seriousness of this event from a brief snippet on the radio but I am so glad that he prepared me. Because even watching it with my own eyes I could hardly take in the truth and enormity of what had happened. Americans didn't know at that point who, how or why those planes crashed with intent, (or that two more would follow), but we did know that we were under attack...on home soil. How could this be?
We are America...land of the free...home of the brave...the country that others want to immigrate to because of our great reputation...why would anyone want to hurt us...and how the heck did they pull it off!?!
It would take us a long time to answer those questions, to wrap our minds around all that was lost that day, to process the changes that this would lead to. America pulled together as Americans should. Signs pleading
God Bless America were accompanied by the call
America Bless God. Hearts were humbled and passions were stirred.
When my little girlie-girls tumbled out of bed looking very sweet and innocent that morning I realized I had a tough job. Somehow I had to explain the events to them (they would hear about it one way or the other - no protecting them from this one - nor did I think I should) in a way that their little hearts and minds could understand without creating fear in them. It wasn't easy. After a brief explanation and short prayer for all the people who had 'boo-boos' the girls were told they could stay in their pj's, eat breakfast in the oldest's room and spend the day playing with a rare reprieve from any and all chores. Even with this break from all the normal rules, and with the volume turned low on the TV so they wouldn't hear anything I didn't want them to, they were much more subdued than normal.
Ten years later, as a college freshman and high school sophomore the girls obviously understand and articulate much more clearly in regards to this event. Lopey, my younger one, made the statement the other day that as a result, our nation has been at war almost her whole life...and yet her generation is so unaffected by that. Some in her generation pray for those in the military...some even know men and women serving on our behalf...they have grown up hearing war reports and are familiar with names of people from another culture on the other side of the world. Of course there are those poor children who have felt the impact directly...loosing a parent in the Twin Towers, Pentagon or downed airplane, or in military service - Father please bless them!...but Lopey was saying that for the most part her generation has been unaffected by this distant and prolonged response to the attack on American soil.
She equated her experience with kids who grew up in World War II. When things were rationed out and valued more...when kids her age could be part of the war effort by collecting scrap metal and organizing penny drives. In a way I think she is very grateful that she hasn't felt the effects of the attack 10 years ago any more than she has...and in a way I think she is concerned that it hasn't had a bigger impact on the mind set of her generation.
And this makes me think: Do I feel differently now...10 years removed from the shock...about my country, my freedoms and my privileges as an American? Sitting in church yesterday, as my pastor spoke about the importance and history of the Bible he asked us about
complacency. I thought this was extremely poignant in light of the fact that it was 9/11. He asked us if we were complacent in the using the gift of the Bible - God's living word! Are we complacent because it's so easy for every home to have one...do we take it for granted?
He recounted a story of smuggling Bibles into a foreign country early in his Christian walk and how that experience snapped him completely out of complacency and stirred a hunger in him for the Word. It reminded me of when, back in the olden days, I worked at the headquarters of a non-profit Christian missionary organization...before The Wall came down...when we had missionaries in countries that we weren't even supposed to talk about. Missionaries, who when they returned to the states and debriefed through my office talked about underground meetings, concealed Bibles, and men and women who risked everything for the chance to worship God and fellowship with other believers.
So, I thought yesterday,
but for the grace of God. Yes we are a nation who once boldly announced our self as One Nation Under God...and we are a nation where we are barley affected by the war for our freedom being fought on foreign soil...we are a nation where churches meet freely, Bibles are available and legal and I can bow my head and pray in public. But what if...what if 9/11 had turned out differently...or happens again? What if America's destruction of life as we know it doesn't come from a foreign adversary - what if it comes from complacency on our part...from the inside out?
In light of the remembrance yesterday, how will you and I live today differently. What do we take for granted - how should we change. This isn't a call to go all vigilante...but it is a call to be vigilant...to take advantage of the freedoms we have as Americans...as Christians...to impact our generation for good...for His good!
Serving Him and you,
~Michelle...ApronGirl
