“Where were you on that fateful day?” Alan Jackson


You who love the Lord, hate evil! He preserves the souls of His saints; He delivers them out of the hand of the wicked. Psalm 97:10

Sixteen years ago today, our country saw evil within its own banks. And it felt different than many of the atrocities we’d seen over the years on television regarding other countries. I guess because those, although tragic, seemed so distant, or felt that way. And we were maybe smug it was not going to happen in our country.

So, this morning, within moments of awakening, the events of a decade and half ago were with me. Always on that date, I think about those horrific and tragic events, and pray for all those so affected, but this year it was a pall, constantly present in my mind all day.

Our attitude has changed again to one of some complacency. We shake our heads and say it’s scary times, and yet we’ve become non-vigilant again, as though we’ve forgotten. And yet it seems as though evil and horror touch our lives daily in the news–killing of police, bombings, maiming of persons, and drive by shootings that result in the deaths of babies and more.

Was it so persistently with me today because the day looked much like that pretty day in 2001? The sky was blue, cloudless, and looked peaceful; both then and today. Maybe it was because the day was so pretty in New York, Pennsylvania and DC in 2001, that seeing the devastation of buildings and plane, against a pretty and peaceful sky, left its harsh and bitter memory. The sky was so marred with the smoke, soot and evilness rising into it. It was so harsh, and looked like what it was—destruction, evil, death, and loss. So many lives.

There were so many stories of heroism, of angels helping others trapped and leading them out—whether it be the first responders themselves, some of the dogs used by the first responders, others helping as they tried to find their own way out of the devastation, or true angels. I know God was in those places that day. There is not a single doubt in my mind and heart. I know it. Call it faith.

I wonder if those pilots who chose to crash the planes changed their minds at the last instant before impact and cried out to God to help them, save them. Are they so sure we are infidels and deserving of death that they don’t question, even at the last moment, their actions? Is there no doubt at the moment of their impending death?

So, on this beautiful day, with a blue and clear sky, the peaceful sounds of the ocean lapping the shore rhythmically, and the cicadas chirping, I remember and pray.

We’ll always remember where we were September 11, 2001. One of the dates which is forever affecting “mybellaviews.” God bless America, and I pray all will feel and know God’s abiding love.

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