Weeping may endure for a night,
but joy comes in the morning.
Psalm 30:5
Today is a somber one...
but joy comes in the morning.
Psalm 30:5
Today is a somber one...
For the thousands of individuals who lost a loved one in the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001, their loss remains raw. There has been no end to their mourning. Their tears have yet to dry.
I know this from looking at the many strained faces of those who lost someone who was dear to them. Their palpable grief was an open window into their souls. Their words expressed their pain, while their faces had misery written all over them. And this was true even as some of these spokespersons for the deceased tried to use a touch of much-needed humor when recounting the good memories of a loved one now gone.
As I do every September 11th, I will plant myself at the end of my bunk and in front of my thirteen-inch clear plastic television set. I would then tune to one of the local news stations out of New York City, where I would watch the coverage of the commemoration service as it was being held in Lower Manhattan. This is where the Freedom Tower now stands in its glory, and it is also where the former Twin Towers once stood as well.
The telecast of the event would run all morning and end by mid-afternoon. I could see the faces of the mourners, as each representative of someone who lost their life, would share words about their loved one. Their grieving faces were etched in agony and sorrow.
I would say a brief prayer for every person who went to the podium to speak. I asked God to comfort every hurting heart.
I did this for approximately ninety minutes before I had to shut my television off. I could only take so much in seeing such an endless stream of grief. But I continued to pray. And there are still more prayers needed to be said, And by God's grace I will say them.
D.B.
I know this from looking at the many strained faces of those who lost someone who was dear to them. Their palpable grief was an open window into their souls. Their words expressed their pain, while their faces had misery written all over them. And this was true even as some of these spokespersons for the deceased tried to use a touch of much-needed humor when recounting the good memories of a loved one now gone.
As I do every September 11th, I will plant myself at the end of my bunk and in front of my thirteen-inch clear plastic television set. I would then tune to one of the local news stations out of New York City, where I would watch the coverage of the commemoration service as it was being held in Lower Manhattan. This is where the Freedom Tower now stands in its glory, and it is also where the former Twin Towers once stood as well.
The telecast of the event would run all morning and end by mid-afternoon. I could see the faces of the mourners, as each representative of someone who lost their life, would share words about their loved one. Their grieving faces were etched in agony and sorrow.
I would say a brief prayer for every person who went to the podium to speak. I asked God to comfort every hurting heart.
I did this for approximately ninety minutes before I had to shut my television off. I could only take so much in seeing such an endless stream of grief. But I continued to pray. And there are still more prayers needed to be said, And by God's grace I will say them.
D.B.
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