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Where were you when the world stopped turning?
One
As the soot and dirt and ash rained down,
We became one color.
As we carried each other down the stairs of the burning building
We became one class.
As we lit candles of waiting and hope
We became one generation.
As the firefighters and police officers fought their way into the inferno
We became one gender.
As we fell to our knees in prayer for strength, We became one faith.
As we whispered or shouted words of encouragement,
We spoke one language.
As we gave our blood in lines a mile long,
We became one body.
As we mourned together the great loss
We became one family.
As we cried tears of grief and loss
We became one soul.
As we retell with pride of the sacrifice of heroes
We become one people.
We are
One color
One class
One generation
One gender
One faith
One language
One body
One family
One soul
One people
We are The Power of One.
We are United.
We are America.
Who am I?
I am no one special.
I'm the little boy that gives up his favorite teddy bear so that a stranger may be comforted.
I'm the single mother who has been trying to teach her child to sleep in their own bed, who holds them tight long into the night, thanking God it wasn't her child that died.
I'm the old man, angry and resentful that his military doesn't want him because of his age.
I'm the teenaged girl that spends hours cutting ribbons for others to wear as a symbol of remembrance.
I'm the young man who doesn't understand why his father was running up the stairs as the building fell, trying to save just one more person, instead of saving himself.
I'm the old woman who will never see her grandchild again.
I'm the little girl, playing with her doll, who can't understand when someone screams hateful things at her because of where her family is from.
I'm the police officer, trying to keep idiotic reporters safe, when his wife is still among the missing.
I'm the fire fighter that called in sick that day, only to discover that someone else died in his place.
I'm the man who survived the falling building only to learn that his sister and baby niece were in the plane.
I'm the secretary, angered by the seemingly callous response of those around her.
I'm a spelunker, who is climbing down into the remains of a building, hoping to find someone still alive.
I'm the dog handler, searching for bodies, that has to comfort my animal when only death remains.
I'm the woman who stands in line for five hours in order to give blood, hoping to help strangers in need.
I'm the man who gets up and goes to work every day, in spite of the tragedy, because he still has a family to feed.
I'm the first passenger to get back on a plane, even though I'm terrified, because I know somebody has to be first.
Who am I?
I'm nobody special.
I'm just an American.
(author unknown)
MONDAY/TUESDAY
On Monday there were people fighting against praying in schools
On Tuesday you would have been hard pressed to find a school where someone was not praying
On Monday there were people were trying to separate each other by race, sex, color and creed
On Tuesday they were all holding hands
On Monday we thought that we were secure
On Tuesday we learned better
On Monday we were talking about heroes as being athletes
On Tuesday we relearned what hero meant
On Monday people went to work at the world trade centers as usual
On Tuesday they died
On Monday people were fighting the 10 commandments on government property
On Tuesday the same people all said 'God help us all' while thinking 'Thou shall not kill'
On Monday people argued with their kids about picking up their room
On Tuesday the same people could not get home fast enough to hug their kids
On Monday people picked up McDonald's for dinner
On Tuesday they stayed home
On Monday people were upset that their dry cleaning was not ready on time
On Tuesday they were lining up to give blood for the dying
On Monday politicians argued about budget surpluses
On Tuesday grief stricken they sang 'God Bless America'
On Monday we worried about the traffic and getting to work late
On Tuesday we worried about a plane crashing into your house or place of business
On Monday we were irritated that our rebate checks had not arrived
On Tuesday we saw people celebrating people dying in the USA
On Monday some children had solid families
On Tuesday they were orphans
On Monday the president was going to Florida to read to children
On Tuesday he returned to Washington to protect our children
On Monday we emailed jokes
On Tuesday we did not
It is sadly ironic how it takes horrific events to place things into perspective, but it has. The lessons learned this week, the things we have taken for granted, the things that have been forgotten or overlooked, hopefully will never be forgotten again.
As I, like most other Americans and people world-wide, was watching and listening to the horror that took place on the East Coast, I heard many people ask the question posed in the subject line. I was reminded of an interview with a Holocaust survivor that was asked the same question.
Her response inspired the following words.
Where was God in all of this?
God was in the rescue workers who were running into the buildings as most people were running out.
God was in the flight attendant who called her husband as her plane was being hijacked to tell him that she loved him.
God was in the two men who carried a wheelchair-bound woman down 70 flights of stairs to safety.
God was in the people who stood bleeding, in line to give blood.
God was in the strangers in cars, picking up strangers stranded in the city and taking them home to their families.
God is in the people who are begging to volunteer, to do anything to help.
God is in the thousands, if not millions who are flooding blood banks thousands of miles away to help people they have never met.
God is in the people who are comforting someone even when they don't know what to say.
God is in the people who watched and cried for people who may remain anonymous in name, but never in their sacrifice.
God is in my neighborhood where I see flags waving from every home.
God is in the men and women, looking at 110 stories of rubble, and seeing only the opportunity to find survivors.
God is with the heroes, most of whom will never be on the news, whose stories will only be told to their closest friends and family; but who saved someone's mother, father, sister, brother, daughter, son, husband, wife, grandmother, grandfather, aunt, uncle, cousin, lover, colleague, acquaintance, teacher, mentor or friend with a single act of kindness, compassion and bravery.
God was not in the hearts of the people that caused these inhumane events.
However, God was indeed there, where he was needed the most.
IS THIS NORMAL?
Four thousand gathered for mid-day prayer in a downtown cathedral. A New York City church, filled and emptied six times last Tuesday. The owner of a Manhattan tennis shoe store threw open his doors and gave running shoes to those fleeing the towers. People stood in lines to give blood, in hospitals to treat the sick, in sanctuaries to pray for the wounded.
America was different this week. We wept for people we did not know. We sent money to families we've never seen. Talk-show hosts read Scriptures, journalists printed prayers. Our focus shifted from fashion hemlines and box scores to orphans and widows and the future of the world.
We were different this week. Republicans stood next to Democrats. Catholics prayed with Jews. Skin color was covered by the ash of burning towers.
This is a different country than it was a week ago. We're not as self-centered as we were. We're not as self-reliant as we were. Hands are out. Knees are bent. This is not normal. And I have to ask the question, "Do we want to go back to normal?"
Are we being given a glimpse of a new way of life? Are we, as a nation, being reminded that the enemy is not each other and the power is not in ourselves and the future is not in our bank accounts?
Could this unselfish prayerfulness be the way God intended for us to live all along? Maybe this, in his eyes, is the way we are called to live. And perhaps the best response to this tragedy is to refuse to go back to normal.
Perhaps the best response is to follow the example of Tom Burnet. He was a passenger of flight 93. Minutes before the plane crashed in the fields of Pennsylvania he reached is wife by cell phone. "We're all going to die," he told her, "but there are three of us who are going to do something about it."
We can do something about it as well. We can resolve to care more. We can resolve to pray more. And we can resolve that, God being our helper, we'll never go back to normal again.
Max Lucado
[author of many books]
