Pat Zabriskie
Eleven years ago on this
date, our country was attacked by terrorists. I hope television channels will
run the devastating pictures as a reminder what people who hate us can do.
Everyone who witnessed this
has his/her own memories. Mine are these: after breakfast I checked into one of
the morning TV shows to get the news. I couldn’t believe what played before my
eyes—a plane aiming for and crashing into the World Trade
Center Tower.
At first I thought the plane
had malfunctioned and this was a terrible accident. But when I saw the second
plane, I knew some enemy had deliberately crashed into a familiar American
landmark. A building filled with people. An international edifice that housed
offices from many countries: Indians, Japanese, Americans, Europeans, and countless
others.
We know there were hundreds
of first responders, policemen, firefighters on duty. We’ll never know how many
people helped. There was one group of noteworthy Americans whose names we’ll
never know.
Across the river, a
construction gang saw the disaster. In minutes, those men laid down their
tools, jumped on the ferry and went to New
York City to help.
On an unknown street in Newark, another work crew
saw the residents of an ethnic community exit their homes and begin to dance
and clap in the streets.
Elsewhere, people who
commuted from NJ sat frustrated in gridlocked traffic. Wasn’t the first time
that happened, but aggravation and agitation rode with them. They turned on the
radio to get a traffic report, only to hear of the tragedy at the Trade Center.
Aggravation was erased as a number of drivers realized their office in the WTC
was gone, along with co-workers who made it to work on time.
Two of my grandchildren were
in the city—one studying at Pratt, another on a work assignment. I sat in
stunned silence as I watched the crowds running from the huge cloud of debris
speeding after them. Would I see my grandkids’ frightened faces among them? I’m
sure I was not the only person praying earnestly.
A young waiter who worked at
the WTC’s restaurant on top of the world,
told us later, he was
approaching his work when he saw the towers tumbling down. He rushed back to
his nearby apartment, changed clothes and returned to help. That act saved his
life. He was safe indoors when the worst of the debris flew.
America is a country blessed greatly by God. As Israel of old,
we Americans have set aside our first faith and worship many idols. The God and
Creator of heaven and earth, whose Name we use as a curse word, is replaced by
the god of choice, to whom we sacrifice babies on Choice’s altar. The god of
money for whom we cheat and trample the poor. The god of sexual immoralty who
returns our worship with disease and divorce. The god of disrespect who teaches
us not to care about our elders.
This is our present world.
Can anyone ask, “Why doesn’t God do something …?” Because it is man’s fault.
The result of human choices is war, famine, disaster, hatred, murder and horrifying
abominations.
Today we remember our lost
citizens, and the rescue forces who braved burning stairwells to save as many
as possible. We remember the fearless Americans who thwarted the plan to hit the
White House. They gave their lives.
The Bible speaks of this act,
“When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at .just the right time and died
for us sinners. Now, no one is likely to die for a good person, though someone
might we willing to die for a person who is especially good. But God showed his
great love by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.” Romans
5:6-9
Nine-Eleven’s rescuers asked
no question as to whether the people in the Trade Center
were worth saving! No, they were ready to give their lives for anyone who
needed them.
Christ stands ready to save
anyone who calls on Him for help
Remember.
