September 11th

ImageI can always feel it coming.  Even before I recognize the month or day my heart knows.  It is not exactly grief, more of a solemn, respectful remembrance. A heaviness like a shroud descends over my heart, which turns inward…into to the place where life is sacred and the loss of it brings an unbearable ache.  I am drawn to 9-11in the same way I am drawn to the holocaust.  It is horrific and surreal, yet I cannot turn my face away.  It is a moment in history to which I bore witness.  A time marking day that will forever be etched on the calendar as the day everything changed.

I have always been a lover of history.  The facts mixed among the stories that pass from generation to generation capture my imagination.  The survivors of any hardship, war, or disaster seem to apprehend my thoughts and paint pictures in my mind.  My curiosity makes me wonder and then dig for more.  I follow the human interest stories across the ages, always seeing the details of the days gone by in my mind’s eye.  In this instance, I do not have to paint pictures; the images come across my screen vividly.  I was alive for this monumental moment, and it occurs to me that I will be one of the ones to pass the story on.  I will sit with my grandchildren and share the lessons learned.  That life is short.  That you should never take a breath for granted.  That every small thing matters.

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I watch the replays, and listen to the stories… I feel.  I feel the pain.  I feel the shock.  I feel the loss.  I hear the silence that followed the cacophony of noise.  I watch again and again to sear it into my consciousness, and to allow my heart to acknowledge the horror and the heroes.  To grieve the destruction and the death.  To honor the servants and the sacred.  Lives lost.  Too many lives lost.  A shocking day that took my breath away, that stills my heart even now…12 years later.

I want history to remember those that were lost.  Their stories whisper to my heart each year.  I am humbled by their voices.  I embrace their sadness and sorrow, even as I feel their courage and bravery.   I bow my head and I pray that God would hold their families close to his heart.  That his comfort, and his peace would blanket them.  That He would provide for those who grieve — to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.  That as we lift our faces to his that we would see the love he has for us.  That we would feel it surrounding us, holding us, and that he would grant our country peace.

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4 thoughts on “September 11th

  1. Martha, I am constantly in awe of Michelle’s ability to communicate with such grace, compassion and heart. Her words are healing just within themselves. I miss seeing you and we need to set up a time to get together..we need to swap a book for some money. Maybe toward the end of next week. Or maybe after church. Peach

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