Every year September 11 comes and goes. Every year I wonder if someone crazy is going to try to take more innocent lives. Every year I think about how much our lives have changed since that day - not just with airport security and Homeland Security; but in our personal lives - our thoughts, our emotions, our fears. I look at my children and think about how they never experienced life before that day. I think about how they remember September 11 as a day in history, similar to how I think of Kennedy's assassination. My parents said the world changed that day, but I never understood that. At least I never understood it until I experienced September 11. The world changed that day. My world changed that day. My kids don't understand that...and I hope they never understand that. I hope they never have to face such tragedy in their lives. And yet, they face tragedy every day in that our world has become a different place - much more fear and much more hate.
I am not a person that chooses to live in fear. I will walk into whatever situation is necessary to stand up for what I believe in or to protect my children. However, when it comes to my kids, I still fight that fear. Before September 11, I wouldn't have thought twice about putting my kids on an airplane to visit family. Now the thought terrifies me. My 12 year old asked if he could fly to visit my sister next summer. I smiled and told him that was a great idea. On the inside though, I fight the fear of "what if". What if some crazy person tried to take over the plane and he had to deal with that alone.
I know I can't live in that fear. I choose to put my faith and trust in Christ and know that He has my days in His hands and He has the days of my children in His hands. As a mortal human being, I continuously must lay that fear down at the feet of the cross. I am sad that my world has changed this way. I am sad that crazy people think it is ok to kill innocent lives to make a statement. I am sad that one day changed the world. I am thankful such a day continually brings me to a place of vulnerability and knowing that I can't control any day and that ultimately I can only place my hope and trust in Christ.
A few weeks after September 11, 2001 I wrote a letter to my then 18 month old son. I wanted him to understand my heart and to know my thoughts and feelings from that time. It was part of a scrapbook page with pictures I had taken on the afternoon of 9/11. For some reason, I feel compelled to share that letter here on my blog. It is personal. It is raw to me. It is vulnerable. It is life after September 11, 2001.