Personal Rememberences...9-11

Today, I am participating in Rememberences of 9-11.
Shannon, at Rocks in my Dryer, had this idea (which in turn stemmed from another blog)...

Those of us who felt so inclined, could write about their own memories of that infamous day, five years ago.
Like all earth-shattering events in history, those of us around at the time never forget where we were...how we felt. And hopefully, some lessons that we learned.
So I'll attempt to share mine...for all to read, but mostly- for my little girls.

*I'm also editing to add something important which I had left out. At least it's important to me...
My husband and I were actually privilaged to be in New York City in 1997. He was in the Navy and participating in Fleet Week. I flew up to spend four days with him there- my first and so far, only trip to New York. While there, we went to the very top of the World Trade Center. It was unbelievable...looking down from the dizzying height, our heads literally in the clouds. I still can hardly get my mind around the fact that we were actually there...on the top looking down...where so many people lost their lives just five years later...

My very first recollection of waking that morning, was that I was still blissfully unaware of the chaos on the other side of the country.

In fact, I was hybernating under my covers. Feeling that early pregnancy exhaustion of being eight weeks along, I ignored the telephone that had dared to ring before eight in the morning. And kept ringing...and ringing. My two year old daughter was not apparently concerned about the annoying telephone noise, and continued to baby-snore away. But on the fourth series of rings in ten minutes, I could no longer ingore the persistent shrill. The thought that perhaps it was something important entered my sleepy brain...hopefully my husband was alright...and my mom.
When I picked up the phone, my husband simply said, with a stange note in his voice..."You have to turn on the news."
He knew I was not a news kinda' gal, so this was perplexing. I was relieved to hear that he was fine- but I knew something huge had to be happening.
I asked him just to tell me. He would only answer that I had to see for myself. I kept asking, the nervousness now growing, and after several minutes of his side-stepping, he finally told me.
"One of the twin towers is burning," he said simply. "They think we're under attack."
The jolt of what he said sent a shockwave through me, dispelling my fog. Minutes later, I was in front of the TV...just in time to watch the giant tower tumble to the ground...live...before my very eyes.

We all know the horror of all of these images. Even if we weren't able to watch it happen "live", most of us have seen them over and over, as they played them in the weeks to come.

For the next three days...I sat rivited to the television, being careful to not expose my little one to any horrendous scenes. But she seemed oblivious...to her, whatever flickered on the screen wasn't real, and she simply played with her toys in our little house.
And when I could get away with it, or she was napping, I would just plant myself in front of the TV and sob.

And pray.

I prayed for the families of all those lost...for the ones still trapped under the debre...and for the safety of our country (which during that week, was horribly in question.)
And then, with all my emotional upheaval, I began to be concerned about the baby I was carrying. I had already lost a pregnancy earlier in the year...I did not want to lose this one. So I also prayed for my baby...and after day 3 of living the turmoil, I finally switched off the set.

I simply could not look at the tower falling one more time...see the helpless people waving...and keep myself a constant emotional wreck. Not only did I have a newly growing baby inside of me, but I needed to properly care for my two year old daughter. And I must say...though I didn't stop praying, it was such a relief to only allow children's shows on my television screen during the day from then on. Watching Nick Jr. or Mr. Rogers with my toddler almost made me feel as if maybe the world wasn't coming to an end after all.

I do remember attending a special candlelight church service held by a church we normally didn't attend, just a day after the attack...and we were there, praying with other Christians we didn't even know. It was such a comfort for me to be united with others, in God's presence, praying earnestly for our country.

Interesting, how our country as a whole turns to God in time of crisis...but when the crisis begins to fade, we begin to forget.

I remember walking with my husband and toddler in downtown Portland the week of the attack, purchasing patriotic t-shirts from booths which dotted the streets...and standing in a line that went outside a shop door because that shop carried the only available American flags at the moment. Everywhere else had sold out immediately.

And I loved the surge of patriotism that was evident everywhere for the weeks to come. It was truly uplifting and exilerating.
But of course that, too, fades over time.

Hopefully, though, some of the lessons learned from that day will not. I'm not speaking just now of political lessons, but of spiritual ones. Hopefully, many of the people that sought the Lord during this terrible period, did so in earnest - and it remained. And hopefully God stayed- alive and vital- in thier hearts and lives from that point on. I hope and pray so.

I believe that what the devil plans for evil, God can turn and use for good. And though it's very difficult to see the good in what happened that day, nearly five years ago...we did see glimpses, even amongst the tragic scenes which played non-stop before our eyes. We saw it in the acts of heroism. The acts of mercy. And the hearts that turned towards God in prayer.

But for days, even weeks, I was (like millions of others, I suspect) a bit haunted by the images replayed over and over. I remember sitting with my two year old on the livingroom floor, as she played with blocks that week. She built a tall tower....and then let if tumble to the floor. She giggled, replaying a scene she no doubt accidently saw on television. And it hurt my heart.

I also remember stepping out into our backyard two days after 9-11, and "hearing" the quiet...no planes of any kind painted the skies above with their trails of white. The otherwise beautiful and peaceful day was made too peaceful... eerily so.

But through it all, on a personal level, God was merciful to me...and seven months later, my second little daughter came into the world, healthy and beautiful.
And like so many children who were born from that first tragic day onward, she became a symbol of enduring hope for our future.

One of the main lessons I learned from this terrifying time five years ago, is that no matter how bleak and tragic life may seem at the moment...God is still in control.
He understands our fear, but yet assures us that "though the mountains crumble into the sea", He will still be there...He is still our God.

There were moments during that first week when I actually felt afraid for the safety of my family...so afraid that it seemed to grip me heart and simply not let go. My normally calm husband would talk about buying gas masks....and then terror would seize my heart...especially for my babies.
But no matter how fearful I became, it didn't change the truth. God was- and is- forever in control. And He will never leave us nor forsake us.

"Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed, for I am your God." Isaiah 41:10