I was Sweet Sixteen...

I wasn't feeling well and decided to stay home from school that day...  I still planned to make it to my part-time job at a law firm a few towns away. I woke up and smelled coffee that my grandfather had made and headed to the kitchen to grab a cup. My grandmother was sitting in front of the television, crying and holding her face in her hands. Immediately, I felt a sense of "something is very, very wrong". When I asked her what was the matter, she pointed to the television and there it was...


A plane had crashed into the world trade center... the twin towers...  people were scrambling, desperate to make it out... even jumping from  the building. My heart threatened to come right up out of my chest and my knees started to buckle. How could something like this happen? I thought we were safe here?

After the shock settled in, I realized something even scarier than all of this ... my mother was working on 17th street in Manhattan. My mom had gone to work that morning and we hadn't heard from her. I picked up the phone, fumbled over the keypad and typed in her office number. Busy... busy...  I tried her cell phone... busy... I tried to call my boyfriend's phone... busy...  I couldn't  get in touch with anyone and I had no idea what was going on outside my home.

Were we under attack?
Would more buildings be destroyed?
Who was doing this?

My mind and heart racing, I started to get dressed. I would take my grandmother's car and drive into Manhattan (I had no license) if that is what it took. I would find my mom and bring her home. Hysterical, tears flowing down my face I finally remembered that I could pray.

That was one of the first conversations I had ever had with God where I really wasn't sure he was listening... where I really doubted him ...  Even through all the turmoil of my childhood, I had that innocent blind faith in God and knew he would take care of me and my family... this time, I wasn't so sure.

The truth is, God did take care of my family that day. My mom walked 6 hours from Manhattan along with countless others that day. She was safe.. my loved ones were safe and no-one I knew died in the towers that day. But still, too many of my fellow New Yorkers did... too many lost a Mother, or a Father... a Son or a Daughter...  and we would never be the same.

The truth is, God did take care of all of them too... even if not in the way we would have chosen. He holds this world in the palm of his hands and it is not always easy, but we have to choose to believe that.  For those lost and for ourselves... we can't loose faith, we can't stop saying as a nation --  "In God we Trust".

Never forget September 11th, 2011 ... but never lose FAITH... he is present, he is constant, he will never leave us.

You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on you: because he trusts in you. (Isaiah 26:3)