I turned 20 years old on September 11, 2001. I was a sophomore at Northwestern College, and the events of that day made a deep impression on me. In my own little life, God revealed Himself particularly on that dark day 11 years ago. Here's the story (written in 2004).
September 2001
It came the Saturday before my birthday, a cream envelope with Mary Englebreit’s pastel roses and a little blue watering can adorning the front. The handwriting for the address was my mother’s. I decided to save it, flipping it casually onto the stack of papers on my desk in my dorm room.
After all, I couldn’t open the card on the 8th; my birthday was still three days away.
Monday night, the night before my birthday, was a late one. The clock’s unblinking red numerals read 12:30 by the time I pulled on fuzzy blue pajama pants and a wrinkled Iowa Cyclones t-shirt in the bathroom, groggy and anxious to get to bed. Sarah was already asleep, and Jenny was still out in the end lounge reading psychology and eating popcorn. 12:30 a.m. I thought. It’s officially my birthday. I’m not a teenager anymore. The weight of two decades of existence seemed somehow momentous in the compact bathroom, and on an impulse, I dropped to my knees on the dingy navy blue rug. How melodramatic… I thought.
But since there was no one to laugh at me, I squeezed shut my eyes and whispered, “God, I don’t know what the future holds for me, but here I am, twenty years old. You take my life, the seconds and days of this year, and do something good in me. Bring glory to Your name. Amen.”
And then I went to bed, in the first hour of September 11, 2001.
* * *
When I was little, I used to dream about flying, about bungee jumping and sky diving. But my fascination with soaring alongside the birds was utterly squelched in my first personal flying experience. My senior class was going to Florida for our five-day senior-class trip in March 2000. We flew AirTran from Moline, IL to Atlanta, then down to Orlando. Unfortunately, we sat in the Atlanta airport for three hours while our plane underwent repairs. Besides becoming very unenthusiastic about the comforts of airport waiting areas, my confidence in our aircraft evaporated.
Seems like if you’ve got to work for three hours to fix something, it may be best to ditch the plane altogether…
We did eventually board, then sat there for another half hour while technicians fiddled around some more. Nerves made my stomach buzz like a hive of rattled hornets.
The plane finally started rolling down the runway, and my seatbelt was cinched around my waist as tightly as I could yank. Behind me, two guys from my class, both very experienced with flying, started muttering to each other.
“Look at those wings; they’re not supposed to flop up and down like that,” Danny sounded grim.
Josh, who was practicing for his pilot’s license, gave a concerned grunt of agreement. The plane bumped down the runway, thunking along faster and faster.
Danny leaned forward to speak in my ear. “Just so you know, this isn’t normal. I don’t think we’re going to make it.”
The hornets in my stomach whipped into a frenzy, and I wanted to puke. God, give me grace. God, give me grace. I would’ve cried, but I was too scared for any tears.
Out the window, lines and poles flashed by faster still, and the rhythmic bumping churned into high gear.
“This is it; this is where we die!” Danny leaned forward in morbid excitement.
I squeezed my eyes shut. God, give me grace!
Shuddering a little, the plane lifted laboriously and haltingly rose above the airport. My abdominal muscles did not unclench through the entire rocky flight.
Since the trauma of that first flight, planes have remained my worst fear.
* * *
I was sitting on our beige dorm room couch, eating a bowl of birthday Honey Nut Cheerios, when the news report on the radio announced that a small plane had run into the World Trade Center. My stomach gave a little half-shudder. Starting my 20th birthday with a plane crash. Great.
It was not until I got to my 8:40 class that more news emerged, shooting a panicked adrenaline through my body. It wasn’t just a plane hitting a building; it was two planes, exploding through the Twin Towers. This was not a case of malfunctioning flight mechanisms; it was premeditated, intentional. The damage was not a few caved-in offices; the two buildings had collapsed.
The day took on a nightmarish feel. Clusters of people were talking everywhere—war, a draft, terrorism, Al Quida. There would be more planes, I knew, unconsciously scanning the brilliant blue sky above as I walked to Maranatha Hall. This was the just the beginning.
In chapel, I looked around at the rows and rows of young adults who usually chattered and tackled each other and laughed their way from class to class. All these men may be gone tomorrow, thoughts clenched my mind in panic. Who knows but that this is the beginning of the third World War.
My dad. What was the maximum age of the military draft? Would they take my dad away from me, take him to fight and die overseas?
Ironically, the sun beamed as I carried my birthday lunch from Café Naz outside, alone. I was jumpy, ears straining for the sound of aircraft, bracing myself for attack. I bowed my head for a mechanical prayer. There is no God. my mind taunted me. You are going to die.
I avoided televisions. It was bad enough to know that thousands were dead. Men had called their families to say good-bye, they were going to die. I did not want the image of an airplane nose piercing the thin skin of a tower seared into my memory. There was no good news.
I spent an hour of my birthday evening praying, alone in an end lounge. God, don’t leave me here. Don’t desert me now. There was no answer but the buzzing of the lights overhead.
It was finally bedtime, just twenty-four hours after I had knelt in the dingy little bathroom to pray. Was this God’s answer? Would this year be punctuated with raw terror ripping through every enclave of my life?
The yellow and white checked bedspread didn’t seem heavy enough as I clambered into bed. The white dorm walls were almost transparent, frail against the black outside. I was almost under the covers when I saw the envelope on my desk.
My birthday card.
Desperate for some shadow of normalcy, I flopped out of bed onto the orange carpet and grabbed the card, climbing back onto the top bunk to read.
My mom’s smooth, curling writing filled most of the inside.
Dear Amy, it read.
My shoulders drooped against the wall, and I felt the clenched muscles relax slightly.
As I anticipate your birthday, my mind goes back to those days when I was anticipating your birth. I was a little nervous about getting your two older sisters settled in someone else’s care and making it to the hospital on time. (As it turned out, there was no real rush. )
My legs felt long and heavy, finally loosening to sink into the mattress.
When I went through my “refresher Lamaze” course to get ready for labor, I decided to use Isaiah 41:10 as a focus for my thoughts:
I hugged my pillow against my chest.
“Do not fear, for I am with you.
Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you, surely I will help you.
Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”
For a second, my breath caught, and I had to swallow and blink away a swell of warm tears.
That verse was a great reminder of my Father’s presence and help when you were born- And it has encouraged me other times since then. I pray you will experience the peace of knowing God’s presence and help throughout your life. You are such a joy to us…
Love, Mom and Dad
Fumbling for my Bible, my hands shook a little as I flipped the pages to Isaiah 41. The words were nestled there, straight lines in small, solid black text, as though printed precisely for this moment.
God is here, my heart trembled and quieted. God is here. And in little scrawling numbers next to verse 10, I penciled 9/11/01.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Fall in the Air
Dear Victor,
Yesterday felt like the first day of fall. It was crisp and fresh out, with low-hanging clouds and a cool breeze.
We sat in the backyard for a few minutes. I think you saw your first ant, at least the first you really examined. And, being a boy, you tried to eat your first bark (your pincher grip is getting good).
I've always loved fall, and I love being free to savor it in a fresh way with you. You get absorbed in exploring the texture of cement with your fingertips and then hear a car passing and up pops your head, peering to see through the slats of the fence.
Seasons change, baby. Daddy just came and whispered to me that you are standing up in the corner of your crib, evidently not dropping off to sleep quite yet. You can stand up now, and it won't be long before you're toddling around, making our lives more interesting yet.
God changes the seasons and times. So we must trust Him, when it's refreshing and sweet and when it's baffling and hard.
Love you, baby.
Go to sleep.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
8 Months!
8 months!
7 months
6 months
5 months old
4 months old
3 months old
2 months old
1 month old
2 weeks old
Dear Victor Albert,
You are 8 months old today. Tomorrow marks the one-year anniversary of Victor Watter's death, whom you were named after. And that makes me think about the most important things in life.
One year ago today, this is what Victor's dad wrote on his Caringbridge site:
Written Sep 6, 2011 7:54am
Brian and I sat with Victor until 2:30 a.m. before finally giving in to our own need for some sleep. Victor awoke briefly to move around a little bit and to mumble "Dad" a couple of times under his mask, but he couldn't get anything more out ... words to treasure.
His breathing continues this morning, albeit 15 or more seconds between breaths. The whirr of the oxygen machine continues ...
You are getting to be such a big boy. So vibrant and strong and curious. You are exploring and expressing new things every day, it seems. And we are getting glimpses of the stubborn self-will you have inherited from your parents.
That's the problem, Victor. And without help, there would be no reason for you or anybody else to be named "Victor," because we would all be enslaved and defeated by sin.
But God sent a Hero. Stronger than Superman and more clever than Sherlock Holmes. And He did not just claim His kingdom ... He lived perfectly and died to ransom a captive people and make them sons and heirs.
That's the reason we call you Victor. Because Christ won the victory over sin and death. And how we pray, daily we pray, that His victory will be yours through faith.
This week, our church is memorizing probably the most beloved and well-known verse in the Bible:
For God so loved the world, that He gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.--John 3:16
The Father gave the Son. And through the Holy Spirit, we may believe and cry, "Abba, Father!" Oh, may those words ring in your heart throughout your life and in your very last day, whenever it is.
You are so precious to us, Victor Albert,
Momma and Daddy
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Videos
Movie night a la Victor Albert...
First up, The Amazing Bouncing Man, Part 1 "Serious Business":
The Amazing Bouncing Man, Part 2 "Getting in the Groove":
Two Little Monkeys: The Pounce:
And, from a little further back, Attack of the Duck:
First up, The Amazing Bouncing Man, Part 1 "Serious Business":
The Amazing Bouncing Man, Part 2 "Getting in the Groove":
Two Little Monkeys: The Pounce:
And, from a little further back, Attack of the Duck:
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Ups and Downs
As it often goes, we've had some ups and downs lately.
I have been savoring this fall with its lack of fall madness. Ben doesn't have to go back to class (as a student)! And for the first time in 9 years, I'm not running around like a chicken with my head cut off in preparations for the new ministry year at Bethlehem. Things are busy. But in a good, full, non-frenetic kind of way.
As a graduation gift, my parents got Ben some snazzy dress clothes. My parents also had a little early birthday celebration for me, so I had new clothes too. :)
Sunday was our celebration of the 6th anniversary of the South Site. One year ago at that celebration, Ben announced to the congregation, "It's a boy!" ... and here he is in person, one year later. Such a gift to us.
On the more challenging side of life, Victor is a little explorer, and so we come to the wonderful world of training and discipline, trying to channel that energy and protect him from the hazards of the household. Targets of most interest: the cookbook shelves and magazines. (He's a wanna-be reader, I think!)
I must have been a little over-zealous in preparations for Sunday's anniversary lunch, because my back is really giving me trouble the past couple days. I have so taken for granted the ability to heft my little boy into my arms. Push a stroller with ease. Sit, stand, walk without discomfort. So it's a good reminder, but a hard one.
Victor is suffering through some more incoming teeth, I think, and it has turned our normally-sunny little fellow unusually fretful and clingy. He had a rough night last night, and just seemed uncomfortable and out of sorts all day today.
To top it off, I had a kiosk training tonight, and I was hoping to put Victor down before leaving. Daddy got a phone call during bath time, so I finished for him. I lotioned and dressed Victor while trying to finish eating a quick dinner. Then he had a poopy diaper just as I was hoping to feed him. And then he had the hugest spit-up I have ever seen, poor little guy. So it was a change of outfits for him and a new top for me. And I decided I'd just have to wear the carrot-covered pants.
But the mix of goodness and challenge makes us trust God and rest in His care. "Mingling toil with peace and rest" is what comes to mind.
May He give me a heart that rests there.
"Day By Day"
I have been savoring this fall with its lack of fall madness. Ben doesn't have to go back to class (as a student)! And for the first time in 9 years, I'm not running around like a chicken with my head cut off in preparations for the new ministry year at Bethlehem. Things are busy. But in a good, full, non-frenetic kind of way.
As a graduation gift, my parents got Ben some snazzy dress clothes. My parents also had a little early birthday celebration for me, so I had new clothes too. :)
Sunday was our celebration of the 6th anniversary of the South Site. One year ago at that celebration, Ben announced to the congregation, "It's a boy!" ... and here he is in person, one year later. Such a gift to us.
On the more challenging side of life, Victor is a little explorer, and so we come to the wonderful world of training and discipline, trying to channel that energy and protect him from the hazards of the household. Targets of most interest: the cookbook shelves and magazines. (He's a wanna-be reader, I think!)
I must have been a little over-zealous in preparations for Sunday's anniversary lunch, because my back is really giving me trouble the past couple days. I have so taken for granted the ability to heft my little boy into my arms. Push a stroller with ease. Sit, stand, walk without discomfort. So it's a good reminder, but a hard one.
Victor is suffering through some more incoming teeth, I think, and it has turned our normally-sunny little fellow unusually fretful and clingy. He had a rough night last night, and just seemed uncomfortable and out of sorts all day today.
To top it off, I had a kiosk training tonight, and I was hoping to put Victor down before leaving. Daddy got a phone call during bath time, so I finished for him. I lotioned and dressed Victor while trying to finish eating a quick dinner. Then he had a poopy diaper just as I was hoping to feed him. And then he had the hugest spit-up I have ever seen, poor little guy. So it was a change of outfits for him and a new top for me. And I decided I'd just have to wear the carrot-covered pants.
But the mix of goodness and challenge makes us trust God and rest in His care. "Mingling toil with peace and rest" is what comes to mind.
May He give me a heart that rests there.
"Day By Day"
- Day by day, and with each passing moment,
Strength I find to meet my trials here;
Trusting in my Father's wise bestowment,
I've no cause for worry or for fear.
He, whose heart is kind beyond all measure,
Gives unto each day what He deems best,
Lovingly its part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest. - Every day the Lord Himself is near me,
With a special mercy for each hour;
All my cares He fain would bear and cheer me,
He whose name is Counsellor and Pow'r.
The protection of His child and treasure
Is a charge that on Himself He laid;
"As thy days, thy strength shall be in measure,"
This the pledge to me He made. - Help me then, in every tribulation,
So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,
That I lose not faith's sweet consolation,
Offered me within Thy holy Word.
Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,
E'er to take, as from a father's hand,
One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,
Till with Christ the Lord I stand.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Busy Season
These have been very full days of late.
Last week I jumped into kiosk training (Tue and Thu nights), and praise the Lord for a record number of responders! But the logistics of the day get a little tricky when I need to leave the house right about bedtime for little V-Man.
Wednesday was our last outdoor Wednesday Connection for the season. We'll miss hanging out with church friends at those picnics!
Thursday Ben, Victor, and I got to visit the wonderful Eckblads and hear stories about their 10 years in Bolivia and see their new home (they have moved 39 times!). What a gift they are and an amazing picture of God's grace!
And Friday, Grammy and Grandad came for a visit! It was delightful. Victor got in some good playtime with Grammy, and thanks to her handiwork, he now has a snuggly sleep sack that he can actually wiggle his toes in.
Ben, Grandad, our wonderful Pastor David, and a friend Jeff got to play golf in the beautiful Saturday morning, and Grammy helped me work on Victor's baby book (seeing as he's not so little a baby anymore). And we all got to go to church Saturday night (during which Victor had a great time in the nursery) and hear the first sermon of our officially appointed Pastor Jason. Which was wonderful.
Our cup overflows!
Last week I jumped into kiosk training (Tue and Thu nights), and praise the Lord for a record number of responders! But the logistics of the day get a little tricky when I need to leave the house right about bedtime for little V-Man.
Wednesday was our last outdoor Wednesday Connection for the season. We'll miss hanging out with church friends at those picnics!
Thursday Ben, Victor, and I got to visit the wonderful Eckblads and hear stories about their 10 years in Bolivia and see their new home (they have moved 39 times!). What a gift they are and an amazing picture of God's grace!
And Friday, Grammy and Grandad came for a visit! It was delightful. Victor got in some good playtime with Grammy, and thanks to her handiwork, he now has a snuggly sleep sack that he can actually wiggle his toes in.
Ben, Grandad, our wonderful Pastor David, and a friend Jeff got to play golf in the beautiful Saturday morning, and Grammy helped me work on Victor's baby book (seeing as he's not so little a baby anymore). And we all got to go to church Saturday night (during which Victor had a great time in the nursery) and hear the first sermon of our officially appointed Pastor Jason. Which was wonderful.
Our cup overflows!
The Big News
No, no, not a new baby...
But, Victor slept THROUGH THE NIGHT for the last 3 nights! Hallelujah! Amazing! Nearly miraculous!
He didn't even cry it out... he just slept (whimpered a little around 4am) and slept and slept. I was really praying about the whole transition away from middle-of-the-night feeding... and God made it hardly even an issue.
So kind!
But, Victor slept THROUGH THE NIGHT for the last 3 nights! Hallelujah! Amazing! Nearly miraculous!
He didn't even cry it out... he just slept (whimpered a little around 4am) and slept and slept. I was really praying about the whole transition away from middle-of-the-night feeding... and God made it hardly even an issue.
So kind!
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