I was a brand-new mom that September. So many changes had taken place in such a short time: the arrival of a beautiful baby girl through adoption in May, and shortly thereafter a cross-country move from Pennsylvania to Michigan for my husband's one-year pastoral internship (the final requirement of his seminary career.)
I had been a mom for all of four months and a pastor's-wife-in-training for half of that. I was still getting used to a much smaller town, trying to remember names, and adjusting to new responsibilities and expectations. But overall, life was calm and life was good. There was no reason to expect things would change.
Yet change they did, abruptly and painfully, not just for us but for our entire nation. The world that we viewed through rose-colored glasses, especially in those euphoric months following our daughter's arrival, suddenly shattered. No longer were we welcoming our baby into a world bursting with hope, but one exploding with hate.
That fateful afternoon, I rocked my daughter and wept. I held her as horrifying images flashed across the screen, thankful that sleep hid devastation from her eyes. I wished that I, too, could sleep and awake to find this all an awful dream.
Many months later while working on my daughter's baby book, I encountered a page entitled "The Year I Was Born." On it I had written the news highlights from the month of her birth; the cost of a loaf of bread and gasoline; the most popular movies and songs of that year. As I looked at it I thought of the most fateful news of all, yet I could not bring myself to add it to this page of light-hearted trivia.
Already we talk about the year 2001 and all that it held. We share the joy of her arrival and the blessing of becoming a family. Someday, we will share more. We'll share the story of a nation's great loss and even greater loyalty. We'll talk about pain and about patriotism. We'll try our best to describe sovereignty amidst sorrow.
But for now, I will simply remember. September 11, 2001 ... We will never forget.
I had been a mom for all of four months and a pastor's-wife-in-training for half of that. I was still getting used to a much smaller town, trying to remember names, and adjusting to new responsibilities and expectations. But overall, life was calm and life was good. There was no reason to expect things would change.
Yet change they did, abruptly and painfully, not just for us but for our entire nation. The world that we viewed through rose-colored glasses, especially in those euphoric months following our daughter's arrival, suddenly shattered. No longer were we welcoming our baby into a world bursting with hope, but one exploding with hate.
That fateful afternoon, I rocked my daughter and wept. I held her as horrifying images flashed across the screen, thankful that sleep hid devastation from her eyes. I wished that I, too, could sleep and awake to find this all an awful dream.
Many months later while working on my daughter's baby book, I encountered a page entitled "The Year I Was Born." On it I had written the news highlights from the month of her birth; the cost of a loaf of bread and gasoline; the most popular movies and songs of that year. As I looked at it I thought of the most fateful news of all, yet I could not bring myself to add it to this page of light-hearted trivia.
Already we talk about the year 2001 and all that it held. We share the joy of her arrival and the blessing of becoming a family. Someday, we will share more. We'll share the story of a nation's great loss and even greater loyalty. We'll talk about pain and about patriotism. We'll try our best to describe sovereignty amidst sorrow.
But for now, I will simply remember. September 11, 2001 ... We will never forget.
6 comments:
Thank you for reminding us with your words. We must not forget.
I love your new blog design btw!
Words well spoken, Stephanie. Thank you.
Beautiful words. Thank you.
http://darkchocolateisbest.blogspot.com/2009/09/september-11-2001.html
Your thoughts bless.
We will never forget... simple words, yet so meaningful! Thank you for sharing this post, so glad you put the link on the (in)courage site.
I was in the same boat. I had my oldest in May. He was almost four months when the tragedy happened. I did journal about it in the journal I keep for him. I remember I had gotten up to feed him very early and went back to bed. My husband did early morning shelving at the local bookstore, and when he came home my son and I were still napping. My husband asked if we had seen the news, but we so seldom have the TV on in our home.
I remember watching numbly looking at my new baby wondering what sort of world I had brought him into.
Sorry I haven't commented lately. I do enjoy your blogs.
Your fellow missionary friend in Japan,
Nicki
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