This morning I was reflecting, as we all do each year, on that horrible day. I think about the time I spent at Ground Zero a few days later. I wonder what happened to to the people we met. The men who lost their friends, their job and whose world was turned upside down. That little church that sat like a bright light in the midst of total devastation and ruin.
All these years later I still can’t put words to what I saw and heard. The devastation was unspeakable. Those moments are seared in my soul – it was a life changing moment.
Reading Margaret’s blog today I found this poem and thought it was too beautiful to not share. It is by Walter Brueggerman.
We do not really know about running and hiding.
We do not have any real sense, ourselves, of being under assault,
—for we live privileged, safe lives,
—learning in a garden near paradise.
Nonetheless the fear and the prayer
—live close beneath the surface…
———enemies we cannot see,
———old threats lingering unresolved from childhood,
———wild stirrings in the night that we cannot control.
And then we line out our imperative petitions,
—frantic… at least anxious;
—fearful… at least bewildered;
Turning to you, only you, you… nowhere else.
In the midst of our anxiety, confidence wells up,
In our present stress, old well-being echoes.
We speak and the world turns confident and grateful,
—not because we believe our own words,
—but because of your presence,
———your powerful, bold, reliable presence
——————larger than fear,
——————larger than anxiety,
——————large enough… and in our small vulnerability,
—————————we give thanks.
On reading Psalm 54, after the World Trade Center bombing, Sept 26, 2001.