Belonging more deeply!
Today I felt compelled to share the reflection I mentioned in my Power of Yes blog. Just a little bit of background: several years ago I was asked to give a reflection to my parish congregation. The topic was Belonging More Deeply. Here’s what I shared:
As I thought about the topic of belonging more deeply and how we could do that, three words came to mind: prayer, surrender and gratitude.
As Christians, we know how important prayer is in our relationship with God, who is with us at all times. I grew up knowing the importance of prayer. However, never was it more evident to me than on September 11, 2001. I remember the day vividly. My husband and I had just purchased our first home and adopted our late dog, Leo. I was a practicing attorney in Manhattan, working in the Woolworth Building, just 2 blocks from the WTC. My husband was a union electrician working inside the WTC.
The day started as any other day. Actually, it was better than any other day. I was exceptionally happy with life. I remember walking the dog and holding my head up high as I thought: Thank you God! As I approached my front door, my neighbor popped his head out to tell me that a plane had just hit the WTC. My husband was there. The only thing I knew would comfort me and help me believe that he would get out alive was prayer. I learned very early in my life about the power of prayer from my mother. So I decided to call the rest of our family. I thought “the more prayer the better the chance of his survival.”
It was 9:30 before I was finally able to hear his voice. He was ok and trying to make his way home. Several days after the ordeal, my husband shared his version of the events. He was on the 91st floor of tower 1, just two floors below where the first plane hit. After exiting the building and realizing that the subway system had been shut down, he had no idea where to go from there. As he wandered the streets of lower Manhattan, he ran into a childhood friend he hadn’t seen in many years and who happened to be a NYC police officer. The officer filled him in on the facts and pointed him in the direction of the Brooklyn Bridge. My husband made his way to the bridge and then the first tower fell.
As the puff of smoke from the fallen building was about the engulf my husband, he turned to see a van trying to get past the sea of people attempting to cross the Brooklyn Bridge and noticed the driver was alone. He knocked on the window and asked the man to let him in and he did, before the smoke reached them. My husband was simply looking to make it across the bridge, but the man lived in our area and drove him straight to our front door. The man’s name was Manuel – short for Emmanuel – God is with us. Looking back on that day, it is obvious that God was with my husband.
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