Not surprisingly, it’s been a while since my last post. What can I say? Life got in the way. And this post will be off-topic of the main purpose of my blog. It’s not about adoption or mom-ing in “the muddle.” But I felt compelled to process through some emotions, and this seems like a good place to do it. So you are along for the ride.

It goes without saying that yesterday was a significant day of remembrance in our country and our world. Except it apparently did need to go “with saying” for me. I guess I blocked it out of my memory or something, because I made it until the opening prayer at my son’s cross country meet at 4:15pm before I really noticed. “Let’s have a moment of silence for September 11, 2001.” Yes. Let’s…

I felt like such an insensitive and self-centered dummy that I made it through my entire day–wake up, quiet time, morning routine, CC Community Day, resting time, and cross country meet prep–without a second thought to what day it was. Of course I knew the date. It rang in my head. “Oh, it’s 9/11.” But I confess that I quickly brushed it off. No time to feel right now; maybe later. A privilege that thousands of people do not have on this day or any other day for that matter. Thousands of lives and a previous way of life that is lost forever. Forgive me for my callousness.

But today, I am feeling.

Grief is a weird animal. And though I don’t have any specific people to grieve on this day, I do still grieve this day. I grieve all of it. As I’m sure you do. Every year, it presents itself differently. This year, I apparently tried to stuff it. But we all know that never works.

Today, it is hitting me.

My eight year old asked me this morning what the date was yesterday. He wanted to write it on his race bib as a memento. “September 11,” I said, realizing again that it really was “that day” yesterday. “Oh wow! Like September 11, 2001…” He said slowly. He knows. He knows the significance of the date. He knows because we have taught him. Yet, he doesn’t experience it the way we do–those of us who lived through it. The weight of it hit me, and as he scurried off to record the date as planned, I stood at the sink and remembered. I couldn’t stop remembering, and I didn’t want to stop remembering. I never want to stop remembering.

I want to remember what happened. Where I was. How I felt. I wish I could know and remember every name. It was a horrible day that changed so much of life as we all knew it. It was unthinkable. But now, the effects of that day have become a part of every day life, and we perhaps think about it daily without really even acknowledging it. The post-9/11 life is “normal” life now.

But I also want to remember what it was like before. In thinking this morning, I was taken aback that it has been 17 years since the attack. I was 17 on the day of the attack. So, this year marks the point where the “after” has been as long as it was “before.”

A friend of mine reflected today that our generation has a unique way of thinking of the span of our lives as “before 9/11” and “after 9/11.” We were old enough then to remember very clearly what life was like “before.”  And we vividly remember the day. But our entire adult lives have been in the “after.” From here on out, I will know the majority of my life as “after,” which is a weird feeling. I think it feels so weird because I still remember the “before.” My children, who have only ever known life as it is now–with 9/11 as a historical event that they can only read about–don’t have this as a defining event in their world in the same way that it is a defining event for the rest of us.

So much has happened in life since September 11, 2001. But on days like yesterday and today, it seems like it just happened. I know we all have our own experiences of where we were and what we were doing. And the emotions of that day are almost palpable. As I work through the emotions of today and continue to process, I think back to the uncertainty and fear we all felt on that day. And I thank God for being the true Solid Rock on which we stand. He is unchanging and unshakable. I think of Psalm 91 and the hope that it gives.

As you read, I pray that these will be words of Life to you. That they will bring comfort to your grieving and remembering. And hope to your future, which may be uncertain to you but is secure in the shelter of the Most High God. Yes, we must always remember. But may we hold fast to Him in love, and rest in His protective hand for all of our days to come.

Psalm 91
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”

For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his pinions,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
You will not fear the terror of the night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.

A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
You will only look with your eyes
and see the recompense of the wicked.

Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—
the Most High, who is my refuge—
no evil shall be allowed to befall you,
no plague come near your tent.

For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways.
On their hands they will bear you up,
lest you strike your foot against a stone.
You will tread on the lion and the adder;
the young lion and the serpent you will trample underfoot.

“Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;
I will protect him, because he knows my name.
When he calls to me, I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble;
I will rescue him and honor him.
With long life I will satisfy him
and show him my salvation.”