Friday, September 10, 2021

Last thoughts on 9/11.

 It was the strangest thing being back at Bethlehem, Ferrin, IL on that Tuesday, 9/11/2001. The day was beautiful, clear blue sky, light winds, the kind of early fall day that you just love. The smell of smoke and cooking apples filled the air. Folks were sitting around talking. Some were standing and stirring the apples with the paddles - it had to be in the figure 8, because that is how you stirred the great copper kettles filled with apples cooking down for apple butter. It should have been a festive day.

But something had happened that changed that. The planes were hijacked, and flown into the two towers of the World Trade Center, into the Pentagon and crashed in the field in Pennsylvania. What else could happen? The twin towers had collapsed, filling New York City with grime and dust. People were dead. People in the buildings. People in the planes. People who were first reponders. Shock. Horror. Sadness. All of that filled the hearts of the cookers.

The sky that was clear, was quiet. Not a sound. No planes going over. No jet streams filling the air. All planes were grounded. Being where we were, jets were going over regularly, either taking off from St. Louis, MO or landing in St. Louis. We heard planes regularly. Now, it was quiet. The wind even died down. It was quiet. Eerily quiet. It is hard to describe. If you don't know what it is like to have the sound of jets going over regularly and then don't have it, you miss it. You know something is wrong. And something was wrong. Death had come calling. 

How do you respond to that? The very way that the Christian responds to any crisis. You turn to the Lord. You pray. You talk about it. You support each other. You remind each other about the wonderf of the life that Jesus gives. You tell each other that Jesus is our fortress and our bulwark. You think of the hymn "A Mighty Fortress." You know that Jesus is still in control. In your shock, you turn your eyes from the TV screen which is showing the images of death and destruction over and over again, to the image of Jesus Christ coming out of the tomb, robes white, fluttering in the morning breeze, hands and feet marked with the place where the nails were. You look at the living Lord and know that no matter what else would take place, Jesus was the One you can rely upon and find comfort and preace in. Only in Jesus could the images of the day be washed away. 

And so, that is what we did. We let the love of Christ wash over us as we sat in the middle of the country, praying for those who were injured and for those who lost loved ones. Praying for the Lord to come into our country and work a revival, to bring us to look from our pain to look to Him. We prayed. We trusted. And we knew - in Christ, no matter what happened, we would be all right. Even if there were more attacks, the Lord was there. He would be with those suffering, those dieing. He always there, no matter what.

What did I learn that day? To trust not in man but to trust in the Lord alone. He alone can get you through a national crisis or a personal crisis. He alone is our strength, our hope and our Savior. That day solidfied the fact that no matter what, Jesus is our Good Shepherd, leading us through the valley of the shadow of death to our eternal home. 

That has never changed. 

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