Well, am back finally from travels to Florida (home) and New York (work). NYC was amazing; Ground Zero is overwhelming; the show of support and memorabilia left on the fences of St. Paul's Chapel across from the site show just how many people have thought, prayed, and cried for everyone affected by 9/11. Personally, I keep thinking of all the people who were just down on the concourse getting coffee when the planes hit; the Cantor Fitzgerald employees who were getting coffee, most specifically. Had they not been getting their coffee they would have died.
If I were one of these people I would not be able to figure out the 'why' - but every time from there on that I got a cup of coffee I would think of my colleagues who perished.
The will of God is a mysterious thing. On one hand, it doesn't matter how you die - you're still dead. On the other, the manner of death greatly affects those who survive you.
I kept looking at the skyline and imagining those two impossibly tall buildings looking up at me. I got lost often when climbing out of the subway tunnels because I couldn't find 'south' without them. And when a plane flew over Manhattan I imagined the sight and sound of ten people bent on murdering thousands of others, imagined the shock and disbelief at the knowledge that any human would entreat himself to do such a thing willingly, and I remembered that there is in fact evil in the world.
But so many people lived; so many survived. There is also so much of God's grace in this world.