I write these words on the 12th anniversary of the terrorist attacks in New York City, Shanksville, Pennsylvania, and near Washington, DC. Like most of us, I still vividly remember what I was doing that Tuesday morning. I had just dropped my children off at their schools and turned the radio on to listen to the news. Shortly thereafter, the second plane was crashed into a Manhattan skyscraper.
Later that morning, as I heard that the Pentagon was targeted and that the Twin Towers had collapsed, I found myself experiencing a sense of helplessness, not knowing what to expect next. Yes, I was 1,500 miles away; but it seemed like the waves of a tsunami were approaching me. I suddenly realized that I had (and have) no control over the events of life in general and my life in particular; no matter how much I would like to think I do.
Twelve years later, I must admit that I still haven’t experienced trauma that has the potential to scar me for a lifetime. True, I’ve been unjustly treated on many occasions, and have even experienced a medical emergency that the doctors couldn’t explain – requiring surgery. But I still don’t count these to approximate the horror that thousands experienced in September 2001. But I am comforted by the promise of God when He assures me that “I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matt. 28:20, NIV), as well as the words of Moses to Joshua and the Israelites when he said “the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you” (Deut. 31:6, NIV).