A Day to Remember

I can still remember the day that I walked onto my college campus for an early morning English class and my Hebrew teacher ran up to me and cried, “A plane has flown into the World Trade Center. We’re being attacked.” I rushed into my class as a small and concerted stir began about the morning’s events. We had a television in the classroom, but the professor didn’t want us to lose focus on why we were there, so we chatted a little bit about the first plane crash hashing out the sketchy details before us when his cell phone rang. It was his wife. She only called in emergencies. He asked us for our permission and then took the call to learn that the second tower had been hit. We promptly turned on the news and were glued to one set or another all day long trying to piece together the madness that was this terrorist attack.
That is, except for one hour when the entire campus gathered for its regular devotional at the basketball arena. I don’t know who many people were there, but it seats over 22,000 people and the place was packed. It began with a song and a prayer and our university president lead us in prayer. We then sang, God Bless America with all the reverence and fervor we could render and we waded through the confused emotions of a nation under attack. It had to be the largest gathering of people under one roof that day, bowed in humble thought and prayer.
That day changed everything. We were united in purpose and solidarity. We were one nation under God, if there had ever been any doubt about our status with the heavens. We knew that freedom and liberty were besieged that day by those who hate our democracy. We have shown our foes that we are not easily overcome. I’ll never forget that day or those who made the ultimate sacrifice. So to those of our brave loved and lost, Kelsey, Erik, Brock and I say a prayer for you and for your families—especially those who left their little ones behind—and wish you God’s speed.