8 Years

So on Facebook today, a lot of people were talking about where they were 8 years ago, when the world changed. I was on my way to class, coincidentally it was class in which we were at that time discussing urban legends, and when I first hear from a friend what had happened in New York, I thought it was hoax. Or at least that it was exaggeration. It wasn't, and what I remember of that day was that everyone was in a haze. Much like it had been two years earlier when Bonfire fell, but this time, it was worldwide.
But tonight, I got to thinking about what has happened these last eight years, personally and to the world at large. In the days that followed, there was fear, anger, hopelessness, and also resolve. Since that day, it seems that we as a country have grown more fearful, less trusting. We are as a nation more divided than we have been in my lifetime. Fear of what the next big tragedy is looms in the air-will swine flu get us? Or biological warfare? Or will we all be on a breadline- or forced into socialism or fascism, or some other -ism? And our fear and distrust have not made us better.
I wonder as I look at my children, 2 and 4, and how they don't know a world that was once innocent. They have cartoons and children's shows that are teaching them how to prevent getting and giving the flu, they will never a know a world that didn't have some system for telling how scared we should be like the terror threat level color scheme. Yes, my kids will look at the world in a better way than I did in some respects- they won't see color differences as starkly as my generation- that is if we don't go back that way with the rhetoric we hear daily from politicians and pundits and armchair politicians- of all colors. Yes, my kids will have access to more and better medicines, they will be smarter than me sooner that I'd like with all the technological advances, and they will have opportunities to go and do things I didn't - not because my parents held me back, but because I never knew they existed.
I remember 8 years ago, schools tried to keep people from talking about the tragedy of 9-11- and being angry. Kids do not need to be sheltered from the fact this world is messed up, and sometimes really bad stuff goes down. They need to learn to process this, grow from this, and make every effort to make this a world this never happens again. When Leslie and Kenna see the images from that day, and ask, we tell them, as much as they can understand. I want them to grow up with a desire to spread love and peace and the message of Christ- which is love and peace- so that those motivated by hate and fear are not just silenced, but changed. Changed by a message of true hope.
In the days after 9-11, there was much talk of revival, and hope that God was raising us up. But that faded soon, and we let hate and unforgiveness creep in, and we called it patriotism to desire to see lost Muslims die horrifically. I am not saying I oppose the war- war is a 'necessary evil' of government, just as it was in the Old Testament- but we as followers of Christ must never rejoice in the death of a person going to Hell- no matter how evil they may be. In some ways, the desire that we be broken over the terrorists' eternal fate informed our hearts with our path toward the Gate- to show love, even to the unlovable. That is the message I want my kids to learn about what happened 8 years ago today.