Today I remember a small moment. A chapel service at Olivet Nazarene University. A moment when a young woman reached out to offer comfort to a young man she hardly new, maybe as much for her own need to feel connected to someone else processing this chaos as to meet a need she thought she saw. A moment when that young man was inspired to know what made that young women tick.
A friendship. A courtship. Devastating news. Cancer and loss. Time. What seemed like an eternity but now feels like a moment and then…a proposal. A wedding and a marriage.
A house. A dog. A jack russle terrier.
A pregnancy. A diagnosis. A whirlwind of hope, and doubt, of peace and chaos and an amazing warrior of a little boy who lives forever in our hearts but not in our arms.
And now, a toddler, a little brother. (who at this moment has crawled out the dog door and onto the back stoop ...I'll be right back)
A house full of laughter and sometimes tears, grace and hope and a fair share of neurosis mingled with wisdom.
September 11th always causes me to pause and reflect, as I am sure it does all of us who remember that tragic day. I can’t help but approach this anniversary with mixed feelings. In some ways a sense of guilt. Because you see, if not for September 11th, 2001 I might be in a very different place. And I can't imagine my life with out my David, my Gideon, my Ezra and even that crazy dog.
But what I love about September 12th is the reminder that it carries, the truism that has replayed again and again in my life these past twelve years. God is faithful, full of mercy and grace. God is a master craftsman. A master craftsman whose love is greater than terror, fiercer that jihad, wilder than the chaos of that day. I see in the ashes of September 11th what God can grow on one life, in two lives and maybe more, and I remain convinced of this truth.
God will mend.
It is the greatest love story of them all.