The year was 1986 — it was a Tuesday. Outside in Pennsylvania, it was a crisp, late January day. The sky was clear and blue. I was working in the call center of Day-Timer’s Inc. Our department took care of taking phone orders. I was working there as a temporary employee. I was part of an odd shift that started at 10:30am. That was so we could cover the calls coming in from the west coast. Just an hour after I started, I heard these words come over the wall from the cubicle next to me: “The Challenger just blew up.” We were stunned. I remember getting home that evening and watching the news footage as it was played over and over again. The images are hard to forget. For my generation it was the first time we asked ourselves “Do you remember where you were when…?”
Ten years ago, it was another Tuesday — another clear, blue sky. This time it was in September. Again the day was cool and crisp, but not unseasonable for the first part of September in Upstate New York. I can recount the details like it was yesterday. The Sunday following was suppose to be a big Sunday. I was working on a salvation message for a denominational-wide day of evangelism in our churches. Being that I was bi-vocational at the time, I was scheduled to go to work at Radio Shack at noon—that would give me time to work on my sermon before I went to work. I was in my office, typing away, when Pam came over to tell me that a plane had crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers. “How odd,” I thought. It was a clear, blue sky with not a cloud in sight. Thinking little of it, I went back to my typing. Fifteen minutes later, Pam came back an told me a second plane had hit the other tower. This peaked my interest. Something was wrong—planes don’t crash into skyscrapers on beautiful, cloudless days. I joined her in our living room and watched the rest of the morning unfold—it was so surreal—almost as if I was dreaming in the middle of the day. Over and over we watched the images played out in front of us. As the morning wore on, we became aware that we as a country had experienced something significant. For a second time, my generation can answer the question “Do you remember where you were when…?”
In forced communion, we imagined the terror of those within the heart of the nightmare—within the heart of darkness—the confusion—the uncertainty—the choice—fall or burn. (How bad was it in those upper stories of the WTC that jumping 1000 feet to your death seemed like a better option?) For some—for most, perhaps—the choice is made for them.
When the Challenger fell, we reached out to our loved ones. As the events unfolded ten years ago, we grabbed our children to hug them. We sought to make sense of the insanity. We searched for some sliver of good from the ruin and wreckage before us.
Mark Wilson, pastor of Hayward Wesleyan Church, FLAME professor and a good friend of mine posted this Sunday from Psalm 91: 1 Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. 2 This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust him.
There are times when we just can’t make sense of it all. We try and we try. Sometimes our inclination is to blame God, but it is in those times—those trying times—that we need to make that 911 call to God—to find rest in the shadow of His wings—that He is our refuge—that He is our place of safety—that we can trust in Him, because He is God.
Have a great week,
Pastor Dale
Ten years ago, it was another Tuesday — another clear, blue sky. This time it was in September. Again the day was cool and crisp, but not unseasonable for the first part of September in Upstate New York. I can recount the details like it was yesterday. The Sunday following was suppose to be a big Sunday. I was working on a salvation message for a denominational-wide day of evangelism in our churches. Being that I was bi-vocational at the time, I was scheduled to go to work at Radio Shack at noon—that would give me time to work on my sermon before I went to work. I was in my office, typing away, when Pam came over to tell me that a plane had crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers. “How odd,” I thought. It was a clear, blue sky with not a cloud in sight. Thinking little of it, I went back to my typing. Fifteen minutes later, Pam came back an told me a second plane had hit the other tower. This peaked my interest. Something was wrong—planes don’t crash into skyscrapers on beautiful, cloudless days. I joined her in our living room and watched the rest of the morning unfold—it was so surreal—almost as if I was dreaming in the middle of the day. Over and over we watched the images played out in front of us. As the morning wore on, we became aware that we as a country had experienced something significant. For a second time, my generation can answer the question “Do you remember where you were when…?”
In forced communion, we imagined the terror of those within the heart of the nightmare—within the heart of darkness—the confusion—the uncertainty—the choice—fall or burn. (How bad was it in those upper stories of the WTC that jumping 1000 feet to your death seemed like a better option?) For some—for most, perhaps—the choice is made for them.
When the Challenger fell, we reached out to our loved ones. As the events unfolded ten years ago, we grabbed our children to hug them. We sought to make sense of the insanity. We searched for some sliver of good from the ruin and wreckage before us.
Mark Wilson, pastor of Hayward Wesleyan Church, FLAME professor and a good friend of mine posted this Sunday from Psalm 91: 1 Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. 2 This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust him.
There are times when we just can’t make sense of it all. We try and we try. Sometimes our inclination is to blame God, but it is in those times—those trying times—that we need to make that 911 call to God—to find rest in the shadow of His wings—that He is our refuge—that He is our place of safety—that we can trust in Him, because He is God.
Have a great week,
Pastor Dale
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