Don't Forget

Yesterday was a very anxious day for me, as September 10 has been for the past five years. I kept sending up prayers all day long, asking for God's protection over our nation and His continued mercy and blessing. I got up early this morning, anxious to ensure that all was quiet over on the East Coast. It was.

Today is September 11, 2007, and you all know what happened six years ago today. 9/11/2001 was a defining day not just in our country's history, but in my own. I think it's the day I did my last little bit of growing up.

It was a Tuesday in 2001, too. I was on my way to my job, at a law office in Tyson's Corner, Virginia. I was on Interstate 66, heading east, approaching the Vienna metro station. It was a few minutes after 9:00 a.m. I heard sirens behind me, and I pulled to the side of the road, along with all the other morning commuters. One police car went by. Then an ambulance. Then another police car. A fire truck. Three more police cars. Before I knew it, dozens of emergency vehicles were screaming past me, sirens blaring, lights flashing. I sat on the side of the highway, bewildered. Something had happened, obviously, but I couldn't imagine what kind of disaster could merit such a response. As I pulled back onto the highway, I flicked on my radio and I heard that two planes had crashed into the World Trade Center towers. I don't think I believed it. When I arrived at the office, people were huddled around a lone, small TV monitor, silently watching footage of the towers. Some people were crying; others were holding their heads in their hands or covering their eyes. Then we heard the Pentagon had been hit. (That was where all those emergency vehicles were headed.) When the first tower fell, the woman who occupied the cubicle next to mine started wailing uncontrollably. That same woman later found out she had lost one of her best friends in the attack on the Pentagon. By noon, almost everyone had gone home. I tried to work, but I think I was nearly in a state of shock. What was happening? Finally, I left too, not really knowing what else to do. For the first time I can remember--having lived in D.C. my entire life--the highways were deserted. Men dressed in fatigues were walking around on public streets with assault weapons. I still remember the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, the fear, the anger, the despair.

I'm not sharing this to be sensationalistic or dramatic. I'm sharing it because I don't ever want to forget. And I don't want you to forget, either. It's a terrible memory, but it's important. It merits remembering. It merits honoring those who died. It merits bringing back, even if it's only for one day each year, the spirit of patriotism and hope that blossomed across the United States in those days and months immediately following 9/11. Let's make this anniversary a day of intercession--for the safety of our country, for its healing, for its repentance and restoration, for our president, our military and the war in Iraq. And let's thank God for another year of safety here at home.

"If my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land." 2 Chron. 7:14 (ESV).