News Blackout

Yesterday was another quiet day for me. It was probably too quiet. I ended up taking a long nap and then had trouble getting to sleep last night. I finally fell asleep around 1:30 AM. This was a huge problem for me when my alarm went off at 5:30 this morning so that I could meet my friend Karen to walk. I was a real zombie this morning.
I decided yesterday that I was not going to sit in front of the television yesterday watching all all of the ten year anniversary September 11 coverage. I watched little bit when I first got up in the morning and then listened to coverage on NPR on my drive to and from church. But besides that, I didn't watch much of it at all. I decided to put myself under a news blackout. It's not because I didn't think it was important to remember that horrible day in American history. It was more a way for me to say, as I did in my post yesterday, that life goes on.
I remember I was glued to the television back in 2001. I saw the image of the planes flying into the World Trade Center towers so many times, I felt numb. I heard all of the stories of survivors and all of the stories of family members of victims. I read everything I could in the news and online. Along with this, I was given the extra responsibility of trying to preach sermons in response to the terrorist attacks.
When I look back on those days and weeks following September 11, 2001, I realize that it was only by the grace of God that I was able to move through days. And this is also how I wanted to focus my heart on the tenth anniversary. I wanted to pause and give thanks for God's amazing grace in my life and along my journey since that time.
My pastor said it this way in his sermon on Sunday:

I like the way Julian of Norwich put it. Julian of Norwich lived in the fourteenth century during the Black Plague. Every day was 9/11 for her. But she had great hope that grew out of her faith as she faced the depths of the trials of her day. She wrote these lines: But all shall be well, And all shall be well, And all manner of things shall be well…He did not say, “You shall know no storms, no travails, no disease,” He said, “You shall not be overcome.”

Wow. What power. God did not say, “You shall have no storms.” God did not say, “You shall have no terrorists, you shall have no fires, you shall have no death.” God said, “You shall not be overcome.” All shall be well.
On this day, are the promises and protection of God enough for us? Are we able to say “All shall be well?” We may have to say it with a tear in our eyes. We may have to say it with a lump in our throats. We may have say to it with clenched fists. But in that whisper is eternity itself.
God’s faithful promises are our armor. Hope is in the enduring memory of God’s protection.
When the final 9/11 television special signs off for the evening, the last analysis has been offered, the last commentary spoken, and the last editorial written, I can think of no more beautiful eulogy than to say: But all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well…He did not say, “You shall know no storms, no travails, no disease,” He said, “You shall not be overcome.”

So, yesterday I napped and rested trusting that all shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.
Thanks for being a part of my journey!