story5353.xml

story5353.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-11

I was in Macroeconomics class all morning that Tuesday, ironically learning about our strong economy. No one had come by to tell us the news, and I obliviously walked to chapel, something I did every weekday at 9:50. One of my friends came by and grabbed my arm and said, "We're under attack; the U.S. is under attack!" I had heard mumblings in the hallways, but was unable to make out exactly what had happened. Concern grew in my heart. I wanted someone to tell me what had happened. Some students stood in the street weeping, others looked stunned, while many others hurried to the chapel to find out more. I just wanted an answer.

When I had found my seat, I looked around at the student body. Everyone was quiet. Not one whisper could be heard. I held my questions and sat in silence, marveling at the mood in the auditorium. 5,000 students gathered in Pensacola Christian College's main auditorium for what normally would be our chapel service, each one silent.

Dr. Joel Mullinix, head of our Public Affairs department, humbly walked to the podium. He didn't stumble over his words or make any introductory statements. He spoke soft but strong words trying not to add or take away from the impact that those very words would have on all of us. He simply stated the facts as they were at that time.

I sat back in my seat, unable to grasp this horrible reality. We weren't attacked, at least not in the way I had perceived outside. We, the American people, were attacked on our own soil. Civilians, normal people living normal lives were targeted by a nameless enemy. The only question that came to mind at that moment was "Why."

Our pastor, Dr. Jim Schettler, came to the podium. He stood in silence for a moment, and then began to speak gentle words of comfort. He answered the question I had asked in my mind as best he could. (These are my words. I am trying to summarize what he said that day.)
Evil will always be present in this world, and as long as this country stands for anything that is good, it will be a target. As far as the lives that were lost, God knew every name. Not one life was overlooked.
After his brief words, he called on each of us to pray for those trapped, for the families of those who were lost, for the rescue effort, and for our country. He shared II Chronicles 7:14. "If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land." He reminded us that this verse meant us as God's people. We were to humble ourselves and pray for healing, and God would hear us and heal our land. We all prayed together as he led. Each heart aching. Each soul pleading with our God to help those in need, and to bring justice to the men who brought this terror upon our people. He then asked for all who had family members or close friends in the towers or the Pentagon to come forward for further prayer and possible aid. The rest of us were dismissed as we watched hundreds of our fellow students walk forward. Again the auditorium was silent. Not one whisper could be heard.

I went immediately to the student commons to watch the news and to find out more of what had happened. Watching the footage of the attacks was devastating. I could not control the sorrow. I sat and wept for hours as I watched the television and prayed for those people and my country.

After the initial stun and heartache was over, righteous anger began to well up in my heart. I wanted justice. I wanted the man or men who were responsible for this horror brought to their knees. I was encouraged by our president as he projected the same holy anger as I felt in my heart. I was proud of my country and the way our people pulled together to help one another. I was grateful to live in this land filled with brotherly love. I was more aware of each freedom that I enjoyed, knowing that the cost for my freedom was life. The lives of those who died to bring that freedom to a new nation, the lives of those who have fought to keep those freedoms in our history, and now the lives of those who died on September 11th so that our country could awake from it's prosperity induced slumber.

I believe that freedom will never die. As long as this country stands for what is right and good, we will always be targeted but never defeated. I love this country, and I would gladly give my life to protect it. I know that I am not alone. There are thousands even millions of people who feel just like I do, and these people will never allow any act of terrorism or war take that away. If we have to, we will pick up our weapons and fight the enemy ourselves on our own soil, but we will never, as long as there is breath in our lungs, lie down and give up our precious land or our freedom.

Looking back on that day exactly a year ago, I remember where I was, and think how fitting that I heard it in the chapel of my college. I think, also, of how fitting it was to have begun my sorrow with prayer. The fear is gone now, as well as the pain, but the anger still lingers, needing justice to finally pass away. I am thankful for a God who hears every prayer. He heard mine that day, but not just mine, He heard every prayer as our nation came together with one voice. I believe that His presence could be felt across our land, comforting and healing those in need. I hope that each life that met death that day was prepared to meet the God of the Universe, and I pray that each and every life that was affected that day will seek Him while He may be found.