I was making breakfast for my 9 month old Bubba.  He was sitting in front of the TV playing while the news was on.  I was still working and waiting for my MIL to come so I could go to work.

As I went to change the channel to Sesame Street for the baby, they broke in with shots of the first plane hitting the World Trade Center.  A cold feeling sunk into the pit of my stomach, and I wondered who would play such a cruel trick by interrupting programming with that.  I quickly realized that it wasn't a trick, and it was heartbreakingly real.  I continued to watch in horror as the second plane hit, and MIL let herself in and joined me to see if what she had been hearing on the radio was true.

My hubby called to see if we had heard anything, as that was the buzz of his co-workers who were just finishing their commute.  We cried and prayed together, and then I left for work.  The atmosphere at the office was oddly quiet.  I worked for an HMO, and my cubicle was near the call center, which was usually quite noisy.  I could hear muffled sniffles from the call center staff and enrollment representatives.  I was completely numb with shock, and tried to do my work as best I could.  My hands were shaking so badly, though, that I pulled up a prayer service on the Internet and joined in with them.

I went home for lunch and hugged my baby close and enjoyed his nursing, grieving for the babies who lost their mamas and mamas who lost their babies that day.  I also thought of the scripture passage that talks about how much better it would be for those who were childless in "those days" - it was definitely one of "those days." and although I am and always will be grateful for my children, I can understand what the scripture means.

Going back to work was one of the hardest things I've done, as I didn't want to leave my baby and his tender snuggles.  I did finish the day out a little more successfully than the morning and came home to my family.  HOH and I just cuddled with baby Bubba on the couch and watched the news with shock, learning about the Pentagon and PA crashes as well.  Shortly after dinner, we heard the terrible sound of a jet going overhead.  Terrible because all air traffic had been grounded for the time being, and we knew that sound didn't belong in the sky.  As we rushed out, we caught sight of the underbelly and realized it was AirForce One, which was making a fueling stop nearby.  FIL called to ask us if we had heard/seen it, since they lived in the path as well.

In the five years that have come since September 11, 2001, my life has grown and changed, through the grace of God.  I'm so immensely grateful for his blessings.  It is with great sadness, though, that I remember that others were not so fortunate as I.  Somehow, in God's plan, this all worked out just perfectly.  I will never understand it, but now I can be at peace about it because I've realized that God is truly in control; He is just and wise beyond my finite understanding; and He watches over His people with a tenderness that I can't even begin to imitate.

In closing, I'd like to share the gorgeous lyrics of a Michael Card song.

The Tears of the World

Lyrics by Michael Card

(From A Sacred Sorrow, NavPress, February 2005)

In any split second

There is enough pain in the world

To overwhelm every gentle heart combined.

The world’s pain is as vast as the ocean.

The sorrow of the world is as deep as the sea.

Could the ocean really be the sum of the tears if the world?

Warm

Salty waves of grief

A tidal force of sorrow

 

That ebbs and flows as inwardly the world groans while outwardly its poor passengers cry out to a God whose eyes are dry.

When Jesus appeared there was a tear in His eye that was as old as the world.

It was not His own. It was the world’s tear.

 

And when even a single one of those tears would course down His unshaven cheek and disappear into His beard, it was as if a black breaker full of the world’s tears was exhausting itself upon the clean sands of the shore of His Father’s invisible compassion.

 

Jesus wept the tears of the world.

How is it my eyes are dry?

Or only wet with my own tears?

 

For the tiniest speck of one of the millions of seconds of my life has there ever been the smallest drop of one of the world’s tears in my eyes?

 

When they see me, does the world see a man of sorrows?

 

Or do they see a false pretended joy that they could never know because I have never known it myself? Could never know it while holding so dear my own comforts.

 

Grant me, O Lord an acquaintance with such tears that the world has wept.

 

Surely the presence of such a great grief in my life would displace my small sadnesses, my petty anger, my selfish sorrows.

 

O red-eyed Jesus, turn my tears into the worlds tears.

And awaken in the deepest part of my falsely satisfied soul