Today something has happened the likes of which few if any people living in this area of the world has ever seen. I wish that I had not awakened this morning. Every airport in the country is shutdown. New York is several buildings shorter. The Pentagon has been hit. What can I say or think about it? It is a terrible tragedy—a type of which I hope I don’t see again (although I can’t claim to be completely optimistic). I feel like crying at the sense of loss and fear. But my greatest comfort comes in knowing and firmly believing in the fact that I am a resident alien; that my ultimate hope does not rest in the United States, but in the atoning work of Jesus. For if even the country should fall, or there should be a economic collapse, I know that my hope and future are secure. The stars are still in the sky, and the One who created them is still all powerful. For now my worst fears are the potential for out breaks of racism, and the impact on the reportedly already weak domestic and world economies.
I awoke this morning (about a quarter after nine) to my father informing me that he and my mother had been in an auto accident the previous night. Although they were fine, the car was undrivable. A few minutes later I walked into the kitchen where my mom was watching TV. “Planes have flown into the world trade center and the Pentagon has been bombed!” she cried. I couldn’t believe it. I put my hand on her shoulder wanting to comfort her. (Besides this she was worried about her brother who was sick and an important meeting later in the after, not to mention trying to figure out how to get everywhere.) I saw pictures on the TV in the background. My first thought and hope was that it was a “War of the Worlds” episode (referring of course to the famous radio broadcast fictitiously reporting an alien attack). Moments later they were reporting live as a tower collapsed. The truth came crashing down on me. I was shocked, floored, stunned and sickened by it. Soon after they read the report fresh off the AP of another plane crashing near Pittsburgh. My parents were having difficulty trying to get a rental car because of the airports being shutdown (they did manage to get one later in the afternoon). I was so disturbed I knew I couldn’t go into work right away (I’m glad I wasn’t already there). I went back to bed, hoping to catch my breath and being sorting things through my head. Then sometime across the street fired up a chain saw. What a horrible sound! After a long while of laying in bed with the covers pulled over my head, I finally got up and went to work, which helped take my mind off all the events for a while. I just had to kind of ignore it for a while, but it was like a black cloud looming overhead. By the end of my shift it had worn down on me; I was tired and ready to go home. They say everyone remembers these kind of things, and has a story; this has been mine.
