Funny thing, today is a day of remembrance. I should feel something. People expect me to feel blue. No one expects me to DO anything. No meetings. No counseling. No work. I guess that as an American they expected me to look upon this solemn occasion with longing and sadness. But I can't.
Don't get me wrong, 11 years ago today was a bitter tragedy. I remember where I was when it happened. I was listening to AM radio while driving a '91 Toyota pick-up truck to Work. I was just about to turn and pull on to the 55/405 freeway on ramp on Fairview in Costa Mesa. They made the announcement over the air. Almost everyone heard. You could tell because the light turned green and we all just kind of stayed put, idling our vehicles. Slowly, finally we started driving. But the freeway moved a little slower; we were all just a bit more cautious as we simultaneously drove, listened to the news, and craned our necks to the sky. I arrived at work and with mutters we greeted each other while heading to the front office that held a small black and white TV used previously during the first Gulf war. Eventually we began to work. What else could we do? I started steam cleaning an V8-92 Detroit Diesel Engine block. I spent all day doing that, though it is normally the work of two hours. After work I went home. We had a Tuesday night college age small group at my house. A few people showed up. We mostly watched the news, and prayed.
But that was a lifetime ago. More than a decade has passed; and in that time we have been through so much: wars, political scandals, national scandals, natural disasters, economic crisis, and the election of our fist black head of state. These are just some of the highlights. We feel old. We feel tired. We are weary. And it feels so long ago.
For me personally, it feels not so much like a lifetime ago, as simply another life. I was twenty-one years old. My entire life and ministry was ahead of me and full of possibility. I was going to write books, and be a world-renowned preacher, and in more than one way I was living a lie. It is 2012. I am just shy of 33. I have spent the last 7 years of my life living in Eastern Europe, concerning myself with color-coordinated revolutions, political instability, and the threat of Russia, and front row seats to its war with Georgia. I have been beaten, threatened, robbed, cheated, and mocked. My daily life is conducted in the Russian language, and I live 63 miles from Chernobyl. I am married, and I have a daughter. I made the decision to tether my life to this place indefinitely, and am hopeful of the future, though dark as many things seem to be. It feels like another world, another time, another life. I have elections to worry about, will the Current president and his party who poisoned the last president and bombed his headquarters, after rigging the election, remain in power? Will the economy strengthen before it hits historic lows not seen since the failure of the Soviet Union? Will I be able to raise sufficient support for what God is calling my family to? Will we lose a generation of young people to problems of the everyday? This is my life. I don’t know what I feel today. I don’t forget. But, what should I be feeling today?
This is the verse I happened upon in my reading today: "The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of His being, sustaining all things by His powerful word. After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven." ~Hebrews 1:3