i was getting ready to go to school.
my dad was in the tv room and called me in to see.

on the news we watched one tower burn.
at first, i thought maybe it was supposed to happen. like maybe they were rebuilding it and therefore tearing it down. then it occurred to me: why would they use a plane?

and then i vaguely remembered the 2 buildings from a discussion in a class once.
“the ‘twin towers’ house more than 50,000 employees on any given day [not including visitors]. the buildings are so large, they have their own zip code.” my heart fell.

“what does this mean, dad?”
“i don’t know. i’ve never seen anything like it.”

i missed my ride. sort of on purpose. i wanted to keep talking to my dad,
for him to tell me that this was not as scary as it seemed. that the world wasn’t about to cave in on us like that building.

i walked into a somber junior english class, though admittedly, many of us were yet clueless.

my dad and i held hands and watched the first one fall, it was on a tv at school that we watched the second.

for perspective, this is me, my junior year of high school {practically in diapers}:

with sean and steve. my fellow council peeps.

on 9.12.01 our church building was bombed. not to the ground, but it was terrorized. {bad enough to warrant attending another building for months}

it was my sister’s birthday, but we were all too busy looking over our shoulders for Jesus. this must be It. too much hate and destruction for one week…

i remember this day often, yet for different reasons as i get older….

maybe it’s because of my time teaching in D.C. and the stories they told me of their 9.11 when i was there. a lot of learning, not a lot of teaching that day.

maybe its because of the twightlight zone moments with 9:11 that i continue to have…

maybe its because i think of that church building, and its shiny new carpet, piano, and pews and think of how we just keep getting back up. mormons and americans alike. the towers they are building where those 2 fell are larger and stronger and shiny and new – like us.  it reminds me to be strong, to remember who i am {a child of God}. always. and not just because of days like that one.

one of my favorite people, thomas monson, wrote an article for the washington post this week that put it best:

“If there is a spiritual lesson to be learned from our experience of that fateful day, it may be that we owe to God the same faithfulness that He gives to us. We should strive for steadiness, and for a commitment to God that does not ebb and flow with the years or the crises of our lives. It should not require tragedy for us to remember Him, and we should not be compelled to humility before giving Him our faith and trust. We too should be with Him in every season.”

ps. this was posted @ 9:11 on 9.11.11