I’m sure you remember where you were and what you were doing ten years ago on September 11. This Sunday our nation will be commemorating lives lost and life continuing after that day. An unidentified speaker has been quoted this past week as saying,   “Even the smallest act of service, the simplest act of kindness, is a way to honor those we lost, a way to reclaim that spirit of unity that followed 9/11.” Great tragedy is a hard way to discover how much we need each other.

About two years before 9/11 I was invited to lead a prayer retreat for some  women in Metro NYC. The date of the retreat was three weeks after the attack on 9/11. I assumed the retreat would be canceled, but instead, the women called to tell me how important it was that I come. So I went, expecting great grief, as these women had lost family, loved ones, coworkers, and nearly their own lives. Several were among those who walked out of the city on foot after barely escaping with their lives. Others waited to hear if a coworker or brother or friend was alive. The city was still burning, You could smell the smoke from the fires. The grief, the loss, the not-knowing, was evident in every face.

But grief wasn’t all I saw. These women hadn’t come together to grieve but to rejoice in God’s goodness. We met for two days and two nights outside the shadow of fallen buildings that also served as tombs. Stories were shared. Tears soaked our faces, our tissues, and our shirts. Our prayers were profuse for those we hoped were still alive. A young woman put her arms around my neck and cried into my shoulder for several minutes, praising God for her life. She had walked out over the bridge and still waited to hear about her brother. To this day, I can’t think of our embrace and her glorious words spoken in my ear without crying again. I was humbled to witness God’s power in our midst.

That particular fall I traveled by air nearly every week. I flew to Colorado the weekend after 9/11.  Seated next to me was a young professional woman. As the plane lifted off, she asked to hold my hand. I prayed with her and held her hand as we climbed into the sky. She asked how I could have such peace and I told her about Jesus. On nearly every flight during the weeks after 9/11, people were reaching out for comfort and assurance they would be okay.  In looking back, I believe it was God’s design for me to be flying so often. God in His sovereignty placed me and many others of His children where they could be His comfort and His witness in this time of heightened fear.

The events of September 11, 2001, bring feelings of grief to my heart, but much greater than the grief is the memory of God’s grace and power that not only saw us through, but has also brought us hope. Only in Him did people find peace and hope.

If you were in church the Sunday after 9/11, you know the churches were packed. At choir rehearsal this week, we sang songs of comfort in preparation for this coming Sunday. God continues to make His righteousness known, and offer hope for all who turn to Him.