Ten years ago, I was pregnant with my first child. As I drove to work, the madness began. Listening to the chaos that was the 9/11 attacks, I was overwhelmed by this reminder of just how very fragile life is. The evil that often lurks in the world had reared its head just as I was facing the advent of motherhood. None of us worked much that day; we spent most of the day watching, processing, and hoping.
As I've thought back on that day, I've realized that what I most remember is not the horror, but the hope. Even as I watched the agony and the terror that these attacks spawned, I hoped. I hoped that we would continue to see the amazing miracles that just kept occurring-- unexpected survival stories; courage in the face of so much hatred; hands of hope reaching out across race, party, religion, and space. I felt great hope watching people draw closer-- to each other and to God. Most of all, while I was terrified at the reminder of what I was bringing this child into, as I felt my little girl move, I was filled with the hope of her new life.
Much that was rooted in pain happened that day and in the months that followed, but so too did much that was rooted in goodness, light, and life. I look at my daughter and her friends, and I see a whole generation that was born in the wake of tragedy. They are beautiful and strong. They are an embodiment of good. They are proof that God has not turned a blind eye; He is there. We are stronger for the tough times we are called to walk through.
May we never forget Him whose hand strengthens us and brings us triumphant through the pain!
And he answered, Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them.
And Elisha prayed, and said, Lord, I pray thee, open his eyes, that he may see. And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man; and he saw: and, behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha. (Holy Bible, KJV, 2nd Kings 6:16-17)