Ridin' The River...

Now that September 11th is over, I can finish this post.

It was a hard day for our country. Commemoration of the attacks was in full force this year as we remembered the tenth anniversary.  For me, it was nearly as overwhelming as what happened in 2001.

Television shows, blog posts, church services, ceremonies. The usual media feeding frenzy.

The images had been flashing across television screens for weeks, forcing us to relive the nightmare.

Of course, there were many miraculous stories too. Amazing courage, valiant rescues. And the children. Some that weren’t even born yet that had to grow up without a parent they never met.

All to remember…Something I’d rather forget.

I have a bad habit of ignoring pain so I don’t have to feel it. I’ve even been told, “denial is NOT a river in Egypt.” I’ll stuff my feelings and ignore what’s right in front of me in order to avoid getting hurt. Despite my best efforts, there was no getting around it this time.

My kitty was born on 9-11-01. His name is Liberty and his litter was all given patriotic names: Americus, Freedom, etc. etc.

What a paradox: The horror scenes on TV in the background during the birth of the kittens. Amidst the tragedy of death, new life.

And I barely gave him a pat on the head for his birthday.

Liberty: Seventeen pounds of amazing cat

My church had spent months planning a big celebration to honor veterans on September 11. In an effort to get involved, I said I would help. But when the time came, I hedged. I didn’t want to give up a whole day, I was too busy, blah, blah, blah. Deep inside I knew the real reason. Just before I issued my regrets, God had a chat with me:

“You said you would help. Are you a woman of integrity or not?”

Drat.

So I committed before I could change my mind. And even invited a family member that was a veteran. I was never more proud of him and his service to our country.

We sang patriotic songs, listened to a moving speech by the mayor, and heard inspirational words from Wade Franks, a missionary in Viet Nam and a veteran of that war. (Check out www.wadefranks.org—he’s an awesome man of God.)

When a video rolled of “I’m Proud to be an American,” it was all over.
I bawled like a baby.

Do we really understand the magnitude of what happened that day? I don't think we ever will. But burying my head in the sand so I don’t feel the pain isn’t the way to handle it.

There are constructive things I can do:
I need to thank God for our country.
I need to thank those who have served.
And pray for the loved ones of those that have made the ultimate sacrifice.

I need to keep a perspective on what’s really important.

And I need to keep the memory of 9-11 alive.

May we never forget.