Friday, September 11, 2009


As I think back to September 11, 2001 there is so much on my mind. We were nose deep in our first adoption, waiting for our referrals from Cambodia for a post toddler aged boy and a little girl. I'd planned a trip to visit my mom in Georgia thinking that within a few months (as the process was going then in September 2001) we'd have our children home before February and my days of solo travel would be over for a while. The "big Cambodian adoption e-group" was abuzz with referrals, children coming home, whose agency was better than who elses' and a lot of other blah blah blah I have come to know is part of international adoption . Then the attacks. ALL OF A SUDDEN, our group was all about our members who were in New York, fire fighters, police, workers, family and friends not heard from, and we were in deep prayer and support mode for weeks. We mourned lost loved ones of people we'd never met, we rejoiced over people found, people safe, fire fighters home safe after days of non-stop haavy labor. But, back to that morning. We were starting our school day, having swept the kitchen floor and put up the dishes. Charlie called me, not real unusual if he'd forgotten something or needed me to run an errand for him, or to tell me something he'd heard on talk radio on his way in to work. When he told me a plane had flown into one of the twin towers, I honestly thought he was about to tell me a safe I felt, so unaware that the incredible evil perpetuated upon my country was not just about to happen, but WAS happening at that very moment. I actually asked him,"Ok what's the punch line?" only to hear him say....oh -so-seriously, and with an urgency in his voice, "NO, someone flew a plane into the Tower. Turn on the tv." AS I turned on Fox News, I saw the second plane fly into the other tower and I froze. As the story continued to unfold: a plane flying into our Pentagon, a plane crashing in a field in Pennsylvania that we'd discover later was bound for the White House, its hijackers overpowered and the plane crashed in a field by those fighting for control of that plane............ and I tried to explain this horror to my children, we prayed a lot more than usual. We have always had daily Bible reading and prayer time together. Today our prayers were of a very different kind. America was under attack. OUR COUNTRY. Not some other place far away, not some place where we sent out soldiers to fight, or keep peace, not a country torn by war who had far too man yorpahns in need of sponsors or adoption, but OUR COUNTRY. I watched as our President was told of the attacks while he was reading to school children. He stayed so calm, managed to finish what he was doing, and made a way to excuse himself. He took such criticism for that, not jumping up and shouting "ATTACK ATTACK" I guess, but I was so proud of him. He didn't scare those kids, didn't give them more information than they could handle without parents to guide them through it, didn't panic or show panic. Later that day as President Bush stood on a pile of the rubble, bull horn in hand addressing those around him, someone shouted , "We can't hear you!" and he shouted back clearly and loudly,
" BUT I CAN HEAR YOU AND THE REST OF THE WORLD HEARS YOU!" and some semblance of national order began in a tiny way, to be restored. More and more detail came out, film footage came out, much of it not what I wanted our children to see, and much of which I didn't want to look at myself, but I knew we were in the middle of one of the most important events of American history and certainly of my own life, so I watched. And cried, and looked away, looked back, and cried, and prayed for all the families directly affected and for our whole world, which was certainly affected as well. If America was not imepervious to this kind of attack, WHAT WAS SAFE?
As I shared memories with Naomi today and we talked about that day, and what she was seeing on tv today, she listened, and replied, "Is my daddy coming home tonight? Do you think we can go ride horses together?" In the face of all the horror and evil, sweet Naomi is still innocent and in the face of ugliness, its her daddy and their favorite activity she wants to seek out for security. I want her to know that there is evil, and sin, but for a small child, I want her knowledge and confidence in God and this family HE has built us into to be around her and to be what is foremost in her mind, not fear or ugly scenes on a tv.If God had not led us to adopt her from that very poor northern province in Vietnam, her life might well be filled with ugliness and fear and uncertainty. For His Plan, He spared her that kind of life. There is time to teach her more about why her daddy and brothers went to war and how it relates to the ugly pictures on the tv. Today she knows she is safe. Our country is still the greatest on earth, our soldiers the best, our God still and always God of the Universe.
I am not finished thinking or writing, but right now, Naomi's question about going riding stands as the reminder to me that God IS God and we as family are showing God's love and security to our children.

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