BY SANDY GOOSELAW
It was Tuesday morning, Sept. 11. I awoke to the sounds of my husband’s voice singing over the hum of his razor as he got ready for work.
I felt safe as I snuggled into my warm comforter. Some days, life just feels more special than others.
I began thinking of our beautiful home, our four children, my writing career, even our kitty P.J. Then I thought about our church, family and our friends. Sometimes it feels like life just can’t get any better.
Most mornings I am up at 5:30 a.m. to begin my day of writing. But this morning I fell back to sleep and didn’t even hear my husband as he went off to work.
Was I dreaming or was the phone really ringing? Then I woke with a start and looked over at the clock to see that it was 7 a.m. As I picked up the phone, I heard my husband’s voice telling me to turn on the TV.
I stood there stunned at the sight I was seeing in New York City. I saw buildings crumbling, people running. I tried not to be afraid. I saw chaos and fear on people’s faces as they ran through the streets searching for a safe place.
They ran the tape of the plane hitting the second tower. Minute by minute, I saw the buildings tumble to the ground. Within minutes, it looked like a war zone. My safe world had just been attacked.
That Friday, I was on my morning walk and passed Elim Lutheran Church. There was a sign out front that said prayer service, please stop in. I felt the need to be a part of a gathering.
I walked into the church and slipped into a back row. A few people were scattered among the pews. I bowed my head and closed my eyes to pray for people I didn’t know but suddenly felt so connected to.
There was background music playing, and on a white screen in front of the sanctuary was a picture of the Statue of Liberty with verses of encouragement running across it.
As I finished praying, I lifted my head to see a room now filled with people. I saw men with their heads buried in their hands. A woman in front of me wiped a tear from her cheek. A couple held hands.
I sat there wondering why they had come. To feel support? To give support? To calm their own feelings? Or just maybe we all came together because we believe we are all part of a bigger family and we want to show each other we care.
Early yesterday I drove my husband to the airport to fly across the country. I was wrestling with feelings of not wanting him to go and believing he was going to be OK. He turned on the radio, and the first news was that the United States had bombed Afghanistan.
Over the past few weeks, I have watched our country give in to feelings of sadness and grief, to anger and disbelief that this could happen in America. Now I watch us reminding ourselves what we really are all about, and I see dignity and strength.
Yesterday I walked with confidence and peace because I lived in a country so free of violence and terrorism. Today I listen to "God Bless America" sung on every radio station and hear words of war being spoken, and I am reminded we are a free country that has temporarily had its freedom challenged.
God bless "our" America and each one of us as we all heal together from this huge tragedy. And God bless the innocent people of Afghanistan who wish for a peaceful life, but now whose lives are also being devastated because of this act of terrorism.
Sandy Gooselaw is a freelance writer who lives in Lake Stevens.
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