Credit: UK Mirror
R. Scott Clark
R.Scott Clark is the President of the Heidelberg Reformation Association, the author and editor of, and contributor to several books and the author of many articles. He has taught church history and historical theology since 1997 at Westminster Seminary California. He has also taught at Wheaton College, Reformed Theological Seminary, and Concordia University. He has hosted the Heidelblog since 2007.
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“On Tuesday, they tried to kill me.
“I am ordinarily at my desk between 7:30 and 8:30 in the morning, in my office on the 54th floor of one of the World Trade Center’s towers. Tuesday, I was running late – I stopped to vote in the primary election for mayor, an election that has now been postponed indefinitely. Thank God for petty partisan politics…
“I kept moving north. In one bar I saw the south tower collapse, and had a sick feeling in my stomach, which increased exponentially when I saw Tower Number One, with my office in it and (so far as I knew) many of the people I work with as well, cave in. Official business hours start at 9:30, but I started reeling off in my head all the lawyers who get in early in the morning, and have for years. I thought of the guy who cleans the coffee machines, someone I barely speak to but see every day, who has to be in at that hour….”
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Many people have asked: “Where was God on 9/11?” A much more important and relevant question is: “Where were we, as a people, as a nation, in relation to God and His Son, on 9/11?” And the answer is: Far from Them to the point of forgetting Them. And as He says in Psalm 9:17: “The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God.”
John Lofton
JLof@aol.com
From a NRO Corner poster:
On 9/11 we were watching the news in a stunned silence most of the afternoon. We didn’t even really think about shielding the children from the news. Suddenly a small figure appeared in the entrance to the living room. The children had all been sent home from school early and John, who was six years old, had quietly slipped away and dressed himself in Jack’s old Army fatigues and slipped his feet in the big black Army boots. Then he grabbed his grandfather’s bayonet and announced, “I’m going to patrol.” He went out on our front porch and kept watch — looking for “bad guys” — working to keep us safe. That’s what I remember from 9/11.
Dear God, please bless the mothers who lost their sons that day.
http://www.nationalreview.com/corner/358223/remembering-morning-charmaine-yoest
Thanks Jack.