9-11 anniversary

I always used to hear my parents talk about where they were when JFK was assasinated. It sort of makes feel old to tell the story of where I was when I watched with the rest of the world as those plans struck the twin towers.


So, here are some thoughts from my trip to New York about 2 years ago:

It started out so simple. I stood on the Observation Deck of the Empire State Building and looked out at the wide world beyond, the city lights and I felt overwhelmed. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. This world we live in is a beautiful place. Something inside me never believed I would live long enough to see such a place for myself. In my mind, New York only existed in the movies. I began to wonder, “Who told me I couldn’t do this? Who told me I couldn’t or shouldn’t enact change in my own life?” The wind just whistled but did not offer any answers.

I stood at the feet of the Statue of Liberty and wondered how many people have stood in this very same place. How many humans have made the dark and dangerous journey into this new world? I feel grateful to be standing here because someone long ago cared enough to take a risk. How many people told them that they couldn’t do it, take a risk with their own lives? I like to believe that I could hear them on the wind, humming doxologies in the darkness.

I stood at the footprint of the buildings that used to be the World Trade Center Towers. This vast cavernous hole in the ground with life teaming all around. Thank you notes, flags, the names of the victims spilling out everywhere and yet life goes on. There are still deadlines to meet and taxi’s to catch and ringing phones demanding an answer. I wonder if the families of the fallen have recovered just as seamlessly. Are there nights, weeks, months, that leave them wondering how they could ever do this, recover from such devastating changes? Do they still hear the music of their loved ones? I hope so.

From the world Trade Center foot print From the world Trade Center foot print