Do you remember where you were?
I was in seventh grade. I remember getting ready for school that morning, and my dad called me into the living room to watch the news. I was still wrapped in my towel from the shower. I looked at the TV and simply didn't understand. What was happening? And why?
At school that day we watched the news in nearly every class I went to -- all of us trying to comprehend what was happening.
It was heart-wrenching. It was confusing. It was terrifying.
I was touched. Thousands of miles away as a twelve year old...and I was touched. I could only imagine the pain and anguish of so many. I have my journal entries from when it happened...my emotions and my thoughts...even poems I wrote.
I remember praying. I remember asking the Lord to bless those who needed it. To look over us. To comfort us. To uplift us. Because I knew, if ever there was a time that so many needed Him...it was now.
And even though I've never walked the streets of New York City, I know the Lord has answered my prayers and so many others' pleas. I know God recognizes our voices and loves us as individuals. He gave us his Son to redeem us from death, from sin, from pain -- to uplift us and carry us during the moments of life's trials when we cannot carry ourselves. How grateful I am for that knowledge -- for that understanding of our sweet Savior.
Through Christ we can find peace, hope and healing.
And for someone who knows way better than me...watch this video. It's about a 9/11 survivor and his journey towards peace.