Sunday, September 11, 2011
A Tiny Whispering Sound
Then the LORD said, "Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will be passing by." A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD--but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake--but the LORD was not in the earthquake.
After the earthquake there was fire--but the LORD was not in the fire. After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound.
When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went and stood at the entrance of the cave.
This is one of my favorite passages in the old testament and, not to be macabre, but I already know I want it read at my funeral. To me it always meant that you can look in all the wrong places for God and for miracles and eventually find out that it is in the mundane details of life that miracles are often found, in the unexpected when people are just going about their business.
I have a profound sadness that strikes as the anniversary of 9/11 approaches every year. I think it is because I am reminded, indeed can never forget, how I felt that morning- the anger, the sadness, the uncertainty of what will happen next. Many children who were not born or too young to have been aware of the events as they unfolded have a hard time understanding that when the tragic events began, we did not know when or where it would end that day, how many more terrorists were out there and how many more targets.
Working in a government building, my future husband and I were urged to finish the work that needed to be done and leave the building. The building would be closed. I remember looking at the faces of the other drivers on my drive home. No one was being rude or impatient, no horns blaring, no basses thumping from other cars. There seemed to be a stunned silence to the traffic that day.
My daughter, who is 6, wanted to know the story of 9/11 and so I told her what I could and I scoured the internet for pictures that would convey the impact of that day. In the end, she wanted to hear and see a little, but she was impatient with too many details, pictures and personal stories. Well, I figured, let her go and play. Why should she be troubled with such thoughts at her age?
In any case, that's when I came across the picture of the perfectly shaped cross that was found in the wreckage after the collapse of the World Trade center towers. If I knew of the story ten years ago, I had forgotten about it. To the rescue workers in the aftermath of such a tragedy, it appeared as a symbol of hope, healing and triumph of good over evil. Perfectly shaped and seemingly untouched beams in the midst of twisted metal and ruin- a tiny whisper after the crushing of rocks, the earthquake and the fire- hope in the aftermath of destruction.
A solemn Patriot's Day to you.
Image from http://www.september11news.com/AttackImages.htm
This post is also featured on Bloggy Moms.
Posted by Joanne at 6:48 PM