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 And I love that my deep emotions are accompanied in full by other
Americans in mourning. Americans mourning Americans. They are the
victims. Helpless. Forced into a storm of pathetic hatred, into a
situation they could not predict nor could they stop. Forced to
accept an invitation to a front-row seat for their own execution.
They could do nothing but watch as they waited to die. Pondering
frantically what it was going to feel like to explode and to burn.
Wondering how many others they would be taking with them. They were
afraid, they were hostage, they ARE Americans. And their voices each
have echoes.
So now we listen closely, never more somber, but never more united.
And therefore proud. Proud today to call ourselves citizens of This
Great United. We are the United States of America and we are
together. As one, under God. Trusting God. We are Americans. And
soon we fight back.
But the battle is already won. There are no atheists in a foxhole.
Those aboard the planes were given time to find a Savior. Those in
the towers and below, my God, I beg You, show mercy. And that’s how
I fight.
For unquestionably there is more than one battle being waged.
Without question we will destroy the pitiable, weak and cowardly
terrorists who are useless in this life, as we have the means and
now the desire necessary to do so. And do so swiftly, with a very
big stick.
But the other battle is not fought with a destructive weapon or
fist. Today it is obvious that we are being called on to fight this
fight with prayer, with a faith and a confidence in our Almighty
Commander In Chief.
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As always, many reactions, declarations and even small but
heartfelt articles will be done in natural knee-jerk fashion.
Good. Look around, listen closely. God is not being blamed, He
is being called on for help. Knee-jerk or no, His power is at
least being acknowledged. Regardless of their potentially
temporary status, the seeds have been planted as, believe it or
not, New York City itself was being labeled as "A City of
Prayer." I’ve never slept with the radio on, not once in my
life, until the night of Sept. 11th. Reports fed through the wire
all through the night, keeping me updated, but much more
importantly, keeping me company. Emotionally drained and unable to
sleep, I felt very alone. My bed seemed too large, my apartment so
quiet. I don’t know what it was exactly that I needed to feel, but I
needed not to feel it alone.
And in the morning I woke, admiring an early dawn many others would
now never know. I prayed in the aftermath, proud to be free to do
so. Humbled to serve a God and a nation under Him that will forgive
me for this anger I’ve yet to release.
Whether or not those who died screamed aloud in the face of terror,
a scream echoes through the soul of all of us who know that their
voices, their lives, will never be forgotten. And so allowing them
to speak even after their earthly end, with their voices crying out,
"God... bless the USA."
[Colin Bird]
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