Happy New Year!

Happy New Year to you!

As the new year approaches many of us take time to reflect on the past year and look forward to the new one. We resolve to make the upcoming year better than the last. With hopes and dreams we make our resolution lists...

My list is pretty short for 2012. I resolve to live in the moment and to always give back. Not sure what this will all entail yet but I plan to figure it out as I go. Guided by faith, love, hopes, and dreams- my wish is to make the world a better place, one tiny step at a time.

May you ring in 2012 with peace and love!

<---------- P. S. One of my new favorite quotables. Found this on another blog and fell in love!

You are not alone...

For everyone that is feeling the excruciating pain that the loss of a loved one brings this Christmas, please know that you are not alone- not to rejoice because others are hurting, but to take comfort in the fact that others understand your pain and grief.

It was just over a decade ago that my grandpa died on Christmas Eve. Not that he really had any control over his time of death, but, I believe in my heart that he knew Christmas Eve was the only time the entire family would be together. We all got to be with him that night as he slowly faded. He couldn’t have chosen a more perfect time to die- surrounded by the ones that loved the him most. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. And while the memories are still painful, they are peaceful as well. We all still miss him immensely.

I came across the following words last night in book called “The In-Between” by Erica Staab. It’s an incredible and powerful short little book about the journey we take when we are in the process of healing from the depths of the pain and grief that only the loss of a loved one brings.

“When I listen closely I can hear your heart breaking, I don’t have to know what caused you such pain, what tears at the fabric of your heart. I can feel how deep your loss is, I can see the tears held behind your eyes. I can hear the catch in your voice when you say “I’m fine.”

Although all of our journeys look different-
often they begin in the same place-
that of torn faith, of a shattered heart,
of a moment in time where the world stopped
and where life seemed to stand still...”

For everyone reeling from the pain of a lost loved one this Christmas, take comfort in the love that family and friends bring. Know that at sometime in the future, you will be okay. Take comfort in the fact that you are never alone.

Peace and love to everyone this season and Merry Christmas. Wrap yourselves in the arms of your loved ones and rejoice.

The fail of Penn State and society

College football fan or not, odds are you’ve heard about the sexual abuse scandal that has rocked Penn State over the last couple of weeks. In case you missed it, Jerry Sandusky, a 67 year-old former assistant football coach and founder of The Second Mile, originally a group home for at-risk boys and now a charity, was arrested and charged (after a three-year investigation) with 40 criminal counts for allegedly sexually abusing at least eight boys over a 15-year period.

In the fall-out since his arrest, Penn State athletic director Tim Curley and Senior Vice President for Finance and Business Gary Schultz have resigned and been criminally charged. Long-time head football coach Joe Paterno and university president Graham Spanier have been fired and assistant football coach Mike McQueary has been placed on administrative leave.

The abuse of the eight victims in this case dates back to the early 1990’s. It wasn’t until 1998, after an 11 year-old boy was dropped off at home with wet hair after showering with Sandusky, that the first police reports were filed. Sandusky admitted  to the boy’s mother later on that he had showered with her son (and with other boys) and promised never to do it again. The case was eventually closed and no criminal charges filed.

In 2000, a janitor caught Sandusky in the showers performing oral sex on another victim. He did nothing to stop the assault but immediately reported what he saw to other janitorial staff including the supervisor. The supervisor told the janitor who he should report to but the witnessing janitor was a temp worker and failed to make the report. The police were never contacted.

In 2002, McQueary, who was then a graduate assistant at Penn State, walked into the locker room and witnessed Sandusky raping an approximately 10-year old boy in the showers. McQueary did nothing to stop the attack but instead went home and told his father (McQueary later stated that when he left the locker room, the attack had been stopped.)

The next morning, McQueary reported the rape to Paterno who reported the rape to Curley. Later on in the month, McQueary was questioned by Curley and Schulz. McQueary was never questioned by anyone else. Curley later reported to him that Sandusky’s locker room keys were taken from him and that they had alerted the Second Mile. Not a single person contacted the police.

In 2008, yet another victim’s mother reports to her son’s school that he has been sexually assaulted by Sandusky. The school contacted the police department and Sandusky was subsequently barred from the school district. In 2009 an investigation was finally launched. It wasn’t until November 2011 that Sandusky was finally arrested. It took nearly 13 years after the first report for him to be stopped.

As a sexual assault victim’s advocate, mother, and simply as a human being, this story makes my blood boil! Besides the obvious outrage at Sandusky, the failure by several adults to stop a child molester was just as outrageous. I knew I wanted to publicly address this situation but I was struggling to know where to begin. Should I write about how child molesters seek out positions that give them easy access to kids? Do I write about how institutions are masters at protecting the institution and not the people hurt by it? Should I toss out some statistics like “93% of children that are sexually abused know their abuser?” Child safety tips? How to report a sexual assault? How society enables abusers? Or maybe I could talk about the devastating effects of childhood sexual abuse? The possibilities were endless! It took spending some time teaching first graders what to do if somebody tries to hurt them to make it a little clearer for me.

We teach our children to tell someone, to find somebody to believe them, to find an adult to trust if they are sexually abused. Therein lies the problem- as adults we fail-time and time again-to do the right thing for our children when it comes to sexual abuse and it’s aftermath. While Penn State is a failure of epic proportions by adults to do the right thing, in our own communities we fail our children in the same way every single day.

We fail our children when we refuse to believe them when they finally report abuse. We fail our children when we refuse to believe that our spouses, grandparents, brothers, uncles, neighbors, and friends could commit sexual crimes against our children. We fail our children when we make it so difficult for them after they do report abuse that they often times change their story so the adults in their life are no longer upset. We fail our children when they trust us to protect them from harm and we don’t. We fail our children when we don’t trust that nagging feeling in our gut when something just doesn’t seem right about a person or a situation. We fail our children-time and time again- because it’s easier to believe that childhood sexual abuse happens in communities other than our own.

And while it’s hard to believe that there are adults out there that harm our children in the most horrific of ways, it’s even more difficult to believe when the abuser is a person we may know and respect, even more so when it’s a person we may love. Regardless, as adults there is really not an excuse good enough for failing to report child sexual abuse, no matter who the abuser is. There really isn’t an excuse good enough for not believing our children.

All the players in the Penn State scandal failed to do the right thing for Sandusky’s victims. Sadly, but not unexpectedly, since the allegations have arisen more victims have come forward. Stories of sexual abuse by Sandusky are now dating back to the 1970’s. We can only speculate how many children Sandusky has abused over the years. We can only speculate how many victims could have been spared if somebody would have stepped up and done the right thing years ago. As a society we need to stop failing our children- their lives and well-being depend on it.

The Susan G. Komen 3-Day

“Often times while walking, words were not even being said. It was a spiritual moment in a sense-- telling yourself, you can do it, thinking about how tired you are, but then realizing that no matter how tired and sore I was, this was minimal compared to what a cancer patient goes through.” Joy Stanghelle, Hotties-4-Hooters 2011.

From left Tanya, Betty, and Sandi- The Hotties Survivors!

A walk for breast cancer. Three days. 60 miles. This was the extent of the journey for some. For others, the journey is much longer. Every year over 192,000 new cases of breast cancer are diagnosed and over 40,000 will die from this disease. During three days in August 2011, 2,100 walkers participated in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Event that took place in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area. Included in those 2,100 walkers were the Hotties-4-Hooters, 20 area women who teamed up to raise money, awareness, and support for breast cancer research. Of those 20, three were breast cancer survivors themselves: Betty Strommer, Tanya Hoekstra, and Sandi Gunter.

The Hotties team got its start in 2007 when Strommer was just finishing chemotherapy and radiation treatments from her breast cancer battle. The first year, her daughter Ann Studer, daughter-in-law Amanda Strommer, and her cousins teamed up to walk in support of Strommer. Since then, she has walked every year. The 2011 walk was her fifth.

“Each year I walked, except the first, I've walked in honor of a friend,” said Strommer. “That was the reason I would sign up again. And each year, I have not been disappointed in the excitement and electricity of each day’s events-- from opening to closing ceremonies, to the fun crew members, to the imaginative pit stops, to the evening entertainment, to sleeping in the tents-- it's all good!” she said.

Hoekstra’s reasons for getting involved in the walk were two-fold she said. “First of all, I always admired Betty for walking year after year. She truly inspired me. Secondly, along with that set inspiration, coincidentally, I was diagnosed myself in May 2010. It was a six-month battle and struggle that gave me a whole new outlook on life and friendships.”

She continued, “I absolutely loved the whole 3-Day experience, so many different people with their own story coming together for one common cause.” She recounted one of the many survivor stories over the three days. “I will never forget walking with an elderly man around 80 years old that was walking alone in honor of his wife while holding her teddy bear. We never thought he would ever make the entire 60 miles. However, at each pit stop, there he was! He would encourage us just as we encouraged him. It was incredible.”

Between Strommer’s and Hoekstra’s cancer battles, was Gunter’s, who was diagnosed and completed treatment, a couple of years ago.

“The Susan G. Komen was an experience I have wanted to do for years,”  Gunter said. “Walking 60 miles in three days scared me to no end! Then my daughter Heidi (Ulferts) said, ‘Yes mom, you can do it, I'll do it with you.’ “Alison Gunter, her other daughter, and her friend Katie Pieper came aboard and “it was an adventure for the memory book!” She continued, “I thoroughly enjoyed the walk, all the excitement! Each day was a new day full of fun and memories.”

The 2011 event began with an opening ceremony at Southdale Mall and ended with a survivor walk at the capitol building in St. Paul. Several thousand people gathered to cheer them on. Along the way were pit-stops, cheering stations, survivor stories, and stories of those that didn’t survive.  Add to that, sleeping in two-person tents, using porta-potties for three days, and discovering blisters the size of mountains on their feet are experiences that won’t be forgotten any time soon. Every one of the 20 "Hotties" has their own experiences and memories that they took with them from the event.

The 3-Day itself is a well-orchestrated machine. There are stops complete with snacks, beverages, and medical help every few miles. Sweep vans patrol the route to help those struggling and carry them to the next pit stop where they can recharge or hop a bus back to camp. There were also volunteer staff at each busy intersection to insure the walker’s safety.

At the campsite itself, row upon row of pink tents lined the camp. Hot showers, meals, massage chairs, cell phone charging stations, and laptops were provided.

A giant medical tent was situated in the middle of the camp, where the wait for non-emergency services, blister care and sore muscles being tops, was sometimes well over an hour long. Doctors, nurses, and EMT’s all volunteered their time for the event where dehydration proved to be the biggest emergency concern for the medical staff.

The Hotties were not without some serious medical concerns of their own. Besides giant blisters, extremely sore legs, and even a bone separation in one team member’s foot, one member of the Hotties team passed out after the second day and was treated with two bags of IV fluids and monitored closely. She was cleared to walk the final day but was heavily cautioned to drink ample Gatorade and water or she would not be allowed to complete the walk. While she was being treated, a walker from another team passed out and was taken away by ambulance. Inside the tent, several other walkers were being given IV fluids and monitored closely. Ibuprofen, ice, and Bio-freeze were handed out like candy at Halloween.

To participate in the 3-Day, the walkers had to commit to raising at least $2,300.00 each. The Hotties team raised $48,493.50 the fourth highest amount of the 2011 Minnesota event, all with the support of family, friends, and the surrounding communities. Several fundraisers were held including a One-Stop Shop/Tour of Homes, a bash at Keggers, another bash and silent auction in New Prague (Studer’s town), a purse sale, and sales of “pink” merchandise among other smaller fundraisers. Eva Priebe, owner of Amish Creations, even organized a table setting event for the Clara City businesses to participate in. The proceeds were donated to the team. Hoekstra, who was the spearhead of the 2011 Hotties team, said that the walk wouldn't have been possible without the support of the area businesses, civic groups, and the surrounding community, “It was amazing to see all the local businesses and community "think pink" and donate to every fundraiser or simply drop a check in the mail to one of our many teammates. Their support was truly appreciated." That sentiment was echoed by one of the volunteer staff at the event when she expressed her amazement that the team had raised such a large amount of money in such a small community.

The highlight of the weekend came at the closing ceremonies when Strommer, Gunter, and Hoekstra led all of the participating survivors in the Survivor Walk, the emotional conclusion to the event which this year raised over 5 million dollars for breast cancer research. “I was proud to hold Betty's hand along side of Tanya to walk the Survivor Walk. That gave me the thrills and tears to make the walk so worth it,” said Gunter. Hoekstra agreed, “The Survivor Walk was an experience of a lifetime. Walking hand-in-hand with Betty and Sandi was a wonderful ending to an amazing weekend. And, having my family there to greet me at the finish line, that was the icing on the cake.”

As for future walks, Strommer isn’t for sure if she is walking for a sixth time or not. “As far as walking again next year? I walk in honor or in memory of someone usually so hopefully, I'll never have to walk again.” She hasn’t completely ruled out walking just for the the challenge though and plans to stay involved with the team regardless of if she walks or not.

Hoekstra is signed up already for next year’s event. “I will walk again, absolutely! I am already signed up for 2012. I am always up to a challenge.” Gunter concurred, “Will I do it again? You bet!." Adding words of encouragement to those who may be thinking about walking, Gunter said,  "If you have ever walked the journey of breast cancer with someone, walk the Susan G Komen 3-Day. You can do it.”

A 2012 team is already forming and fundraisers are being planned. “Our first big fundraiser will be Dec. 3.” said Hoekstra. “ It includes a one-stop shop, bake sale, soup and sandwich lunch Hinterland Vineyards, and a hayride ending with a home tour at the Epemas. We are really excited for that day!”

Three days. 60 miles. Blisters to last a lifetime.

All of us Hotties on day one!

It was August of 2010 when I committed to walk in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day event as part of the Hotties-4-Hooters team. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, I only knew that I wanted to walk to support my friend Tanya who had been diagnosed with breast cancer in May and also for my coworker Gloria who had been diagnosed in July and died a couple of days after I committed to the walk. I had a year to train and raise the required $2,300. No worries, right?

I should have learned in my 42 years that anytime I think something this big is going to be a piece of cake, that it won’t be. It’s usually quite the opposite. Three days of non-stop walking would have been much easier if I actually stopped to think that it might be really, really difficult. It may have been easier if I had stopped to think that my aging, overweight body might not sail through it like I was still 20. Why follow the recommended training schedule, because really, how bad could it be? We’re just walking, right? Piece of cake.

Day One:

We stayed in a luxury hotel, you know, the kind with white, fluffy robes, the night before the opening ceremonies. Knowing that we were going to be sleeping in tents for the next two nights and using port-a-potties for three days made the stay extra special.

Up way before sunrise, we set out for the opening festivities--  a bit anxious for what was to come. There were a few in our group that had walked before but most of us were newbies to the event. Excitement filled the air as thousands of walkers in pink lined the sidewalks as we set out on our journey. Our group of 20 quickly separated and grouped off according to our collective paces. I was lucky enough to “collect” with a group that was content on finding a steady pace, taking in the sights, and resting quite frequently. In other words? We were the “slow, but fun” group.

Oh yeah, we had fun!

The route on day one was spectacular! We walked through some beautiful residential areas, the Lake of the Isles, around Lake Calhoun, through the sculpture park, historic downtown Minneapolis, and along the Mississippi. We even got to see the 35W Bridge Memorial which had recently been unveiled.

Rest stops every couple of miles provided food, water, band-aids, Gatorade, and the glorious mini-biffs. There were sweep vans along the route to pick up walkers that were struggling and also to move the stragglers along as there was a time schedule every day.  We moved through day one rather uneventfully. By the time we reached camp we were sore and tired but feeling alright.

Wanting to feel clean and refreshed before supper, I grabbed my change of clothes and shower gear and headed for the showers. I had been told to make sure to eat before showering, horror stories of people passing out in the showers had been told, but I felt just fine. I could wait. Lots of walkers were. Piece of cake.

The shower line was only about 15-20 minutes long but a funny thing happened the longer I waited. I began to feel warm, then a little woozy, then a little warmer and a little more woozy. Finally, it was my turn for the showers. I walked up the steps and suddenly the steamy confines of the shower room hit me like a brick wall. A few expletives no doubt flew out of my mouth as I was sure I was heading for faint city.

I quickly found my stall, leaned up against the wall and repeated to myself over and over and over-- I will not pass out and be hauled out of here naked, I will not pass out and be hauled out of here naked, I will not pass out and be hauled out of here naked... It took about five minutes but I finally managed to turn the shower on COLD and hopped in. It was only by sheer will and the grace of God that I stayed on my feet and was able to walk (barely) out of there fully clothed and not lying flat, naked on a stretcher.

I had found out the hard way that dehydration is a beast, I vowed to drink incessantly the rest of the weekend, and by the end of day one I had crossed “running a marathon” off my bucket list. After just walking 20 miles and nearly passing out, I decided that anybody that would want to run that far and more, willingly, had to be crazy.

Day Two:

Was there a day two? Quite frankly, the whole morning of day two is actually quite a blur to me. Our group was definitely feeling the pain of day one, most had several blisters and one member had developed a very painful foot (we found out later that night that some bones in her foot had separated, yikes!) But, we made it to lunch and we were happy to be half way through the day. A few miles after lunch though, the miles caught up with us and we decided it was in the best interest of the group to cut our losses, hop the bus back to camp, and regroup for the final day. This was a decision that none of us regretted even though it meant we’d be a few miles short of the full 60 miles. We made it back to camp, got in line for mini massages, and psyched ourselves up for the final day.

Mini massages after day two. Ahhhh....

 
Day Three:

My worst (yes, worse than the shower incident) physical struggles came early that morning. I fell behind my group and actually thought at one point that I wasn’t going to make it-- literally. While passing out on the sidewalk didn’t sound like fun, it was definitely not as horrifying as passing out in the shower so I decided to somehow push through it and keep going. Finally, about a half mile before rest stop number two, I hailed the sweep van ready to give it up. I had walked by somebody being hauled away in an ambulance and I decided that’s not how I wanted my morning or the end of my three days to go.

A funny thing happened at the rest stop though, I discovered that Bio-freeze is not just a pain-relieving gel in a tube, it’s actually a pain-relieving gel sent from heaven. I iced my throbbing knees, legs, and feet, slathered on the freeze, and downed a handful of ibuprofen. A salty snack and some Gatorade and I was starting to feel like I might live. Only 13 more miles to go! Whoo hoo! Bring it on! By this time I had also put “running a marathon” back on my bucket list because running 26 miles at one shot had to be a piece of cake compared to this, right?

At the lunch stop a few miles later, I reconnected with my walking partners and we successfully completed the remaining nine miles or so of the walk. I popped ibuprofen like candy and re-Biofreezed every chance I could but I made it. We made it. There is no way I would have finished without the support of the wonderful women I was walking with. I still get the giggles when I think of some of our conversations that lifted us through the tough spots and kept us focused on the finish line.

Most of us went home with blisters and pain in places we didn’t know possible. One teammate actually did pass out on day two and spent a couple of hours in the med tent being re-hydrated with IV fluids. Another was sure she would be losing a few toenails at some point and others had the absolute biggest blisters that I have ever seen. My dear friend, who incidentally was the one that passed out, was examining her blisters on the way home when her son leaned over to me and said, “I can see the sunlight through mom’s blister.” That said it all.

As for me, my legs from the knees on down were swollen for over three weeks. Last weekend at a 5k walk/run I discovered that I had a couple of blisters that still haven’t completely healed. It’s been two months! Also, unfortunately by the looks of it, I may still lose a toenail. Luckily, it’s not sandal season.

For all of us, the 3-Day was an experience we’ll never forget. Besides our survivors, a few in our group made some pretty big personal sacrifices to go to the 3-Day. We all had our own personal reasons for participating in such an important event. Some will walk again, some won’t, but I think we’ll all somehow stay involved in the fight against breast cancer.

We also all knew that the temporary aches and pains we felt were nothing compared to the battles that cancer patients face. Survivors and their families lined the trails of the 3-day cheering us on, thanking us for walking and for supporting them. Sometimes, it was just the families with pictures of their lost loved ones- that’s when you had to choke back the tears. Their spirit made it easy to keep going despite the physical pain we were feeling at the moment.

Besides our new-found appreciation for indoor plumbing, we all took away our own experiences from the walk that have no doubt forever changed us for the better some how. For that, I will always be grateful.

To the Hotties of 2012, piece of cake! To the Hotties of 2011, thanks for the fun and memories. Our journey will be with me for a lifetime. So will my blisters.

After a MUCH need cold beverage at a St. Paul restaurant just before we crossed the finish line.

Life begins...

 “Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.”
- Neale Donald Walsch

I watched my husband face his biggest fear on Friday when he boarded a plane for New Jersey. Flying has terrified him for years even though he’s never been on a plane, known anybody that has ever been hurt on an airplane, or even known anybody that has had any sort of trouble at an airport! His fear, coupled with other anxieties, has been gripping. Over the years he has missed out on several opportunities for travel with family and friends because of his fear of flight. It took our daughter moving to a college in New Jersey this fall for him to finally conquer that fear. When he set foot on that plane he catapulted himself right out of his comfort zone and I can’t help but think life will be just a little different for him in the future. He has a whole new world in front of him now that he has burst out of his comfort zone and faced his fears head on.

The hub as we were about to take flight!

When I first read the Walsch quote a few weeks ago I immediately jotted it down in my journal. What a great piece of wisdom and so completely true. It really applied to the hub and his fear of flying. I then thought back to the times in my life when I’ve pushed beyond what I thought I was capable of and how incredible I felt afterward. This quote captures the essence of that feeling.

I wish that every person, especially those with anxieties, would find the end of their comfort zone. I wish that everyone could experience their life to its fullest- whatever their fullest may be. They would find out that a funny thing happens when you finally conquer something you once thought incredibly impossible. Your comfort zone moves up a notch, your world gets a little bigger, and you begin to see things just a little differently. The impossible becomes the possible and you begin to wonder, “What’s next?”

“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.”  I am hoping that quote will help to catapult me to the next level in my comfort zone. There are some goals I have set for myself and once I attain them, I know my life will be very different from that point on. It’s kind of scary to think about sometimes. With luck though,  I will be able to rocket out of my zone and then I’ll be able be able to ask “What’s next?” What about you?

We remember: A nation forever changed on 9-11-01.

Has it been a decade already? The headlines 10 years ago in the Raymond-Prinsburg News read “Apparent terrorist attack shakes the United States” and the next week “America: Under attack.” A nation was in shock over the terrorist attacks on our own soil. How could this have happened? Why did this happen? What will happen next? Those questions were on the mind of Americans everywhere as they struggled to make sense of the tragic events.

You would truly be hard-pressed in this country to find a person that doesn’t remember the events of
September 11, 2001 and what exactly they were doing when they first heard the news of a plane crashing into the World Trade Center. My kids can all tell you what class they were in and what happened after that (they were 12, 10, and 9 at the time.) Me? I had stopped at Cenex in Clara City to get some much needed coffee after back-to-back, early morning ambulance runs. The image of the first plane hitting one of the twin tower buildings was flashing across the TV screen. We watched the rest of the events unfold later on at work and listened intently, albeit in disbelief, to the radio the entire day. Minnesotans and the entire nation were gripped with fear, confusion, and extreme grief-  both for the lives lost and for a country that for the first time had been the victim of a terrorist attack of such an enormous scale. Nearly 3,000 people died as a direct result of the events of that day. This didn’t happen on our turf. It just didn’t.

Air traffic screeched to a halt, phone lines were tied up, schools closed, and prayer vigils were held everywhere across the nation. Americans banded together and flags flew where they hadn’t before. Patriotism was at an all-time high in the weeks and months following 9/11.

And still a decade later there isn’t a day that goes by that there isn’t talk of the attacks and its aftermath (think airline travel, the resulting wars, etc) somewhere in the news. We are a nation forever changed.

I have always been saddened by the loss of life on that September day in 2001 but not knowing anybody that was hurt or killed and living so far away from where the actual events took place that sadness has always been just that- sadness for a terrible event- nothing more, nothing less. It wasn’t until I visited “ground zero” a couple of weeks ago that my sadness changed to something else and I’m not even sure what that something else is.

My parents, my daughter and I decided to make our first NYC stop at “ground zero.” We enthusiastically bounded out of the subway eager to see the sight. We looked up, we looked around, we looked at the map- we didn’t see what we were looking for, although I’m not sure we knew what that was. Finally my dad asked one of the nearby police officers where “ground zero” actually was. We had been there the whole time and it was then that we actually understood. We looked up to a eerily vast empty space as he pointed out where the mighty buildings once stood. Chills crept over me as the realization of what actually happened on that day nearly 10 years ago suddenly gripped me. The gaping holes where the towers once filled the sky were suddenly so very evident. I choked back the tears as I imagined the absolute sheer terror that New Yorkers must have felt on that day. It’s gut-wrenching and heartbreaking to imagine terror of that magnitude.

It’s also so hard to fathom that some of the tallest buildings in the world were nestled among countless others in a small corner of a giant city and now they were gone- along with them 2,753 lives. Only the grace of God spared that corner of the city from more disaster and loss of life. To see the buildings that remain- you can still see the damage on some of them-is quite an incredible site.

After we returned from NYC I took some time to reflect on that visit and on the events of 9-11-01. I went back and watched some of the footage, I looked at some of the photos. Photos of stunned New Yorkers watching the towers burn and ultimately collapse, photos of people covered in thick dust running for their lives down the streets of New York, photos of firefighters emerging from still standing buildings with victims in tow- the images are incredibly haunting.

As the anniversary of the attacks approach, prayer vigils and other events are planned all over the nation, including our area. I’m not sure what I’ll do to commemorate, but it will be something. I probably wouldn’t have said that a few weeks ago.

God bless the families and friends of those that lost loved ones in the attacks. We will never forget the terrible events of that day a decade ago. We were all forever changed on September 11, 2001.