Ten years ago as a nation but so much more as a world we were changed. I think now more than ever about how this truly is my generations Pearl Harbor. I am lost for words as I realize that what I lived through will now be in the history books for my daughter to read. For me remembering 9/11 was a wicked thrust into adulthood. You learn about Pearl Harbor and the lives lost with a sense of disconnect as it happened prior to your birth. It was just another talked about moment like the murder of JFK. I remember my mother talking about where she was when JFK died and rolling my eyes because I could careless. But on that seemingly normal morning as I continued to skip class and sleep in I found myself faced with a harsh reality, where I once did not care about the past defining moments of history I was living through one, and rather than blowing it off I was finding myself impacted beyond what I ever thought I would have been. Standing in a dorm room watching the news with my friends verbally trying to discredit what we were watching as some Hollywood cgi, especially after watching the 2nd plane collide. In those moments my youthful ignorance wash shattered and brought forth an unexpected step into adulthood. A sudden response of caring, interest and responsibility washed over me and continued to grow. Even now as I am weeks away from 31 years of age I found myself doing things and finding interest in things that were directly spurred on by 9/11. All of these things were solidified, more like seared into my life, as I traveled with 30 of my peers to minister to the youth affected by the 9/11 tragedy. While we were in NYC we traveled the 5 burrows and saw some of the sights but none of them had impact like seeing ground zero. Seeing the destruction of the surrounding buildings the small pieces of glass and debris that littered the streets for miles the impact began to take on a whole new life. Waiting in line to walk the ramp and seeing the missing posters that stretched nearly a mile, created a sense of reverence and awe that this truly was a tragedy and not in the sense of the news media using it for hype. But, a tragedy in the rawest sense of the word. As I walked that platform already seeing pictures of what lay before me there was a new life brought to this and with it a sense of ownership and pride for my fellow man and country that as a 21 year old man I would have never had. Seeing the depth of the foundations the debris and destruction of surrounding buildings brought awe into a seemingly numbing vision. After that moment it became about the single unifying question for all of us, ” Where were you”. As we talked with policemen on the streets and heard stories of where they were and what they experienced there was the untold stories that truly brought to life a new and gut wrenching reality. From the story of a couple of policeman escorting a distraught woman looking for her husband home only to take her home a mile and a half away from ground zero and find that a human torso had been thrust through her living room window. To the documentaries that came out shortly after that showed from the firefighters view what took place and hearing crashes every 3-5 minutes or so and having a firefighter explain those were the crashes of the bodies of people who were jumping to their deaths. This began to truly become too real and too raw for comfort. I think often of how this brought a sense of unity to our nation and how we rallied together to rise up. I think of all the touching moments and great speeches that followed. But today more than anything I reminded of two things. One the great sacrifice of civil servants, not just the ones on 9/11 but everyday like my younger brother who is a policeman and the things he does and deals with day to day. But maybe more so even now that I have a daughter, the children who were not born and never knew or will know the parent they lost that day. I know our country is resilient we have been for many decades. I know that we ARE one nation under God, as much as there justification to say we are not. More than anything I’m still reminded of the loss of life, but not just the physical. The lives that were supposed to be lived with and impacted by those that died that day. The loss of the impact those lives were supposed to cultivate through years of life. This almost angry yet somber reflection makes me think now more than ever the need for us to live every moment, as it’s our last. And not in the college frat party sense, where you drink and sleep around and do what ever you feel like doing. Our society has already become that. But, the live every moment like it’s your last so leave a lasting impact on the lives you encounter everyday. This should serve as a reminder of how, through the strength, mercy and grace of God, as a nation we walked through a devastating event and it’s our duty daily to take every encounter, moment and breath and live in such a way we impact others. You can hug a tree, recycle cans, bottles and paper, all of that is good. But leave an impact of legendary character and integrity for the ages. Leave an example that requires others to talk about the impact you had on their lives and how watching you and having you in their lives made them better. As morbid as it may sound I live for my funeral. I live for the time where the people who were impacted by my life come together to share about how God worked through me. I would say it’s not a pride thing but I would be lying. I want to die knowing I served my God, loved my family and helped others be amazingly who God called them to be. As a matter of fact I received an email from a former student who just went into the service. In this email he thanked me for instilling in him integrity, character and Godly morals, as he attributes my impact as what has helped get him where he is today. I don’t share that pride fully to say look at me I share it because I only was around this young man for a few months. God is constantly working in and through us daily to leave legacies of impact that resound through generations. There’s not many ways to really end this but I will by sharing one last thought. Don’t let 9/11 be a memory of tragedy; let it be catalyst that pushes you to live every moment as if it’s your last to let God use you to impact someone’s life.
