story3526.xml

story3526.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-11

The first hint of what was unfolding came from a radio news report that a plane had run into a building. My wife and I were getting ready for the day (6:46 AM, Mountain Time), and while the report caught our attention, it did not, at first seem dramatic. Even the broadcaster, though he reported it as breaking news, did not seem overly alarmed. We thought it was probably an isolated incident. We weren't even sure what kind of plane or where the incident had occurred. We continued our morning routine, but decided to turn on the TV to see if there was any more news. The coverage of the second plane slamming into the Twin Towers was just hitting the airwaves, and we, like most other Americans, sat riveted to the TV screen, unable to fully comprehend all that we were seeing. We shook ourselves free and took our children to school then hurried home to watch the coverage for about an hour afterward. When I reached my office at the church (I am a pastor), we immediately lowered our flag to half mast to honor those who had undoubtedly perished. The schedule for the next day, Wednesday, included our normal Midweek Prayer and Bible Study service. It is also the day we had planned to kick off our AWANA Club children and youth ministries. We decided to postpone those ministries and began to plan for a special service to pray for our nation, our leaders, those who had lost loved ones and those who had been injured in the attacks. In the mean time, our oldest son's scheduled High School soccer game in Denver was cancelled, and our yonger children were released early from school as precautionary measures. As evening approached, the enormity of what had taken place was sinking in. This could mean war. With whom? When? Where? Here? Since we live in the shadow of NORAD, the possibility that whoever had done this might want to strike Colorado Springs seemed all too probable. My wife and I sat down with our four children and discussed the events of the day. We told our oldest sons (15 & 14 at that time) that the attacks we had endured could mean there would be a war. I looked at my teenage sons, as so many other parents have down through the years and realized with a mixture of pride and apprehension that the defense of liberty would be falling on the shoulders of young people like my boys in the next few years...and that some of them would die in the process. Before we broke up our family meeting, we prayed together. We asked God to give our leaders wisdom and to protect them. We asked Him to comfort those whose loved ones had been killed. We asked Him to spare those who were trapped and still living in the rubble in New York and Washington, DC. We told Him that we trusted Him with our nation, our lives and our futures. We thanked Him for His love, and we went to bed.