I remember

I was six years old when the September 11 attacks occurred. I remember getting up early to say goodbye to my dad and older siblings as they left on a trip. Not long after, Mom got a call from Dad to turn on the television.

I remember seeing two buildings burning, and little dots jumping out.
 I knew they were people, but I thought they were jumping into waiting firefighters’ nets. My six-year-old mind couldn’t grasp that those people fell to their deaths.

I think one of them was wearing pink.
I remember my parents guarding three-year-old Caleb and I from seeing more of the television and newspaper reports. I don’t think I was scared, but I did realize there were some big bad guys who did mean things to hurt people.
I remember my aunt showing us kids one of my cousin’s sweatshirts depicting the New York skyline, telling us that the two big towers in the middle were gone.

I remember when I was nine, going to New York, standing at the Statue of Liberty, seeing that same skyline for myself. Understanding more fully than ever that the attacks three years earlier actually happened to a real city with real people.

I remember going to the funeral of a soldier who died fighting the War on Terror. The one that started after the terrorist attack way back in 2001.

So now, I’m remembering. Listening to stories about the ordinary people who suddenly became heroes, the family members who were left grieving over a lost loved one. Sujo John, who worked in one tower, his wife in the other; both were miraculously saved and today spread the story of Jesus’ love all over the States. Todd Beamer, who tragically but heroically died on Flight 93. Retired LTC Brian Birdwell, who survived the Pentagon attack with burns covering 60% of his body. Welles Crowther, a courageous employee at the World Trade Center who climbed back up the stairs to save more lives, and who paid the ultimate price for his sacrifice.
I watch the video of the 9/11 kids, whose fathers died before they were born. They’re ten years old now.
They never met their fathers.
Have you forgotten?

2,507 civilians, 343 firefighters, 72 police, 55 military personnel, and 19 hijackers died that day.

Today, let’s remember.
And especially remember that He was there.

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