Remembering

Likely, we all remember where we were… what we were doing. I awoke to newness, knowing that day was to be our boys’ first day of preschool in our new city — Indianapolis. We dressed and had breakfast. Then, unexpectedly, the phone ran. It was my dear sister. “Have you heard?” she asked.

“Heard ‘what’? What are you talking about?” The first thing that came into my mind was our parents. They were traveling home from Arizona, having been in Navajo country for Dad’s work. Had something happened to them?

“Sit down and turn on your TV,” Katie said. “The ‘Today Show’.”

I did. A sense of alarm was immediately obvious. And then the footage — depicting fire. Carnage. Death. Within the first five minutes of watching, the second tower fell. I remember thinking, “This isn’t real. Surely, everyone’s safely made it out of that building.” My mind and heart could simply NOT make sense of what I was seeing. It was too much. Too much.

In those moments, I turned to the only true Source of strength I knew. Opening my Bible to Is. 32, I remembered a year earlier (August 2000) that, in my women’s Bible study, we had looked at this passage — “You women who are so complacent, rise up and listen to me; you daughters who feel secure, hear what I have to say! In little more than a year you who feel secure will tremble…” (Is. 32:9-10a).

I’d written in the margin of the text, “A warning to be ready… where is my security?” And I remembered thinking then, “What calamity will happen in ‘little more than a year’ and how will I respond?” In our study, the women encouraged one another to always look to God — our Rock and our Redeemer.

On that morning of insecurity, I wrote again in the margin of my Bible — this time, these words from Matt Lauer, “… a day of tragedy and terror for the United States…” and dated it 9-11-01.

Twelve years have passed. Our boys are no longer in preschool, though our little girl now is. The sun still rises and sets on a nation that has, in many ways, survived. Some — perhaps many — came to trust more fervently in an “up-close-and-personal” God after that day of “tragedy and terror.” Some, though drawing near in their hour of need, have since gone astray — choosing to live independent of Him once again. Oh, how I pray they return. For He is a God who not only brings comfort in our days of mourning but joy in our journey — as life ebbs and flows… through both the good days, as well as in seasons of sadness, loneliness, depression, sickness, and yes — calamity.

Isaiah 32 reminds us that dark days do come. But at its close, we’re also reminded of the joy that awaits those who know the One in whom their security rests. “The fruit of righteousness will be peace; the effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever. My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest…” (Is. 32:17, 18)

Remembering today those who suffered great and unbearable loss.

Thankful today for the One who comforts those who mourn (Is. 61:2) and who guides us “in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though [we] walk through the Valley of the Shadow of death, [we] will fear no evil, for [He] is with [us]…” (Ps. 23)