The Puddles

I dreaded going to church today.  I knew that Chris was preaching about 9/11.  I already cry every time the topic is brought up.  Not because I knew anyone directly effected by destruction, but because I just remember how scared I was.  I was pregnant with Madie and away from my family.  I was the director of a private school at the time and had about 60 students and 10 staff members in the building at the time.  We had dozens of parents calling in, wanting to pick up their kids, wondering what our plan was, were we in lockdown, etc.  A lot happened that day.  I was glad that I had a busy job with students and a staff to take care.  It kept my mind from wondering into dark places. In my quiet moments, I would just rub my growing belly and worry about what kind of a world I was bringing my first child into.  The world changed that day.  It certainly hasn’t turned out as scary as I thought it might on that first day.  My children don’t know of a world any different.  They can’t imagine it as it was before.

The sermon was a good lesson on forgiveness and what God calls us to do.  Ironically, Matthew 18:21-35 happened to be the Bible verse that our lesson in Sunday School was based on.  The discussion was interesting.  What God asks us to do is hard.  Very hard. But as our classes discussed, the only one who truly suffers in conflict is the one who needs to give the forgiveness and does not.  I sometimes think that kids have a better idea on how to do this than adults.

Even though, forgiveness was not on my mind that day 10 years ago.  I can’t imagine a discussion today about 9/11 without it.   The topic is still a political minefield.  I will be glad when this day of remembrance is over.  I often wonder how previous generations dealt with the attacks on Pearl Harbor.  What were the emotions that they felt 10 years after the event?  I never did ask my grandparents about their memories of that day.  I think I’ll remedy that the next I visit Grandpa.  We might have much to learn from them.