The world changed for so many human beings on this day, September 11, seventeen years ago. A day we will never forget. I cannot imagine how it changed for the thousands whose loved ones died, but my heart aches as I think of their sadness, emptiness, pain. I cry today for the sons and daughters, friends and lovers, wives, and husbands — for all those who will never again hear that laugh or feel that hug.

He heals the broken hearted and binds up their wounds.

Psalm 147:3 (ESV)

Our world changed in so many ways on September 11, but I cannot express the whole of it because I do not begin to understand it all.

I just know that so much of life is not beautiful because we are on this side of eternity.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Matthew 5:4 (ESV)

The Story of Our September 11

Our morning began in an uneventful way except for one thing. Our sweet pup, a 5-year-old golden retriever whose only goal in life was to make us happy, was not happy. Let me back up for a bit here and tell you that Butch was diagnosed with cancer three years earlier. The vet said it was incurable. We were to bring him back when the pain became too much. Our kids prayed. Heal him, Lord.

Then the miracle. The tumor shrank. We had three more really good years with him.

Late that summer, he slowed down. He ate less. He didn’t want to walk the trail. But he didn’t seem to be in pain, and he still wagged his tail and smiled the way Goldens smile.

That morning, when he didn’t wag his tail or eat his breakfast, I gave him a feast. I think it was yummy sausage or bacon with fat and eggs and all that goodness. We rarely gave him people food. But that morning, I was desperate. I wanted him to eat. It worked. He gobbled up every last greasy bit. He was happy. I let him out into the yard, and we left to take the kids to school.

Then we heard the news.

Like millions, we watched with horror on the television the rest of that day, unable to do anything else, unsure of what to do even if we could.

I prayed; I cried; I waited for phone calls or news from loved ones and family. Some of them had jobs that put them in real danger. Others lived and worked near the horrors.

My husband picked up our kids, and when he returned home, he walked around the house to the side yard, as he often did to play with Butch, and there was our sweet pup. He had breathed his last breath.

I had been so preoccupied with the tragedy unfolding across our nation, I did not notice the tragedy in my yard. Our little tragedy.

We turned off the television and wept.

I cried for the horrors, the fears, the deaths, for my children and this un-beautiful world. I cried that their best friend was gone and it had nothing to do with the bigger tragedy. It seemed so small a thing to shed tears for a beloved pet when at that very moment, so many humans were fighting for their lives and grieving such huge losses.

This is the way it goes on this side of eternity. So many things are not beautiful.

Yet so many things ARE beautiful.

• Love and the way that people sacrificed their lives for strangers.
• Love and the way our nation held hands and walked through it all.
• Love and prayer.
• Love and green grass.
• Love and music, poetry, flowers, smiles, dappled sunlight, servant hearts, hummingbirds, freedom.
• Love and one golden retriever whose only goal in life was to make one family happy.
• Love and grace.

I want to never forget.

I want to always remember.

Love and Christ, the cross, the resurrection.

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.

Revelation 21:4 (ESV)

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