My boys were propped in front of the television watching Sesame Street. Wayne had just returned home from an early morning class. It was a clear, cool day in Raleigh, North Carolina. A neighbor knocked on the door. "Somebody just bombed the World Trade Center!" We turned the channel just in time to see the second plane hit the South Tower. I remember the cold fear wash all over my body. I remember standing on the playground behind our apartment with the other seminary wives.... watching the skies, terrified.
Our little family lived on a little street tucked in behind Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. It was the fall of Wayne's first semester. Those crammed duplex apartments were filled with students and their families from all over the globe. Our tiny community was international. I remember, within hours of the first attack, seeing Old Glory displayed on the porches and in the windows. It wasn't just an attack on our great nation, it was an attack on all who loved and pursued freedom.
We held candles in the dark that night, us and our neighbors. We prayed for our country, our leaders, the victims, their families and for our children. What kind of world would they grow up in?
These ten years since have brought many changes. I've become more aware.... more aware that this earth is not my home, more aware that the evil will continue, more aware that we are called to share our Hope. I know that in those towers and on those doomed flights that awful Tuesday morning, Christians did share, salvation was received and lives were spared, for eternity. I must remember to do no less today.
God Bless America.
But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts, and always be ready to give a defense to everyone who asks you a reason for the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear. 1 Peter 3:15