I drove to work in much the same way I had every other morning: listening to Bob and Sheri on the radio. They were telling jokes and funny stories. It was 8:45. I got there early and sat in the parking lot of the college where I was working as a sign language interpreter. I had been married nearly 3 months.

They interrupted the laughter and informed the listening audience that it appeared as though a small plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center. I had never been to New York and didn’t know what the World Trade Center was. I pictured a large, open air market on Wall Street similar to a farmer’s market with money and stock instead of fruits and vegetables.

I got out of my car and walked to the library. Still early, I checked my email and casually looked at nbc.com to see about that plane. There was a small photo of the tower with billowing smoke. The librarian and I chatted about the accident. She was only vaguely interested.

Later that night, when all the world had heard and the sky above our country was eerily quiet, I distinctly remember the fear. I was thankful we didn’t have children yet. This place was too terrible, too unpredictable. Life was too fragile. We were not safe.

I am intrigued to hear stories of where people were when they learned about the events of September 11, 2001. What were you doing when the world changed? Who were you with when our lives were so rudely interrupted? What were you thinking on the day in between Before and After?

The next day, I wrote out Psalm 91 in my journal. He is always my only hope, but that day I felt it. If you don’t believe in God or if you believe in God but aren’t sure about the Bible, then it won’t really mean much to you. But to me, it was a lifeline. It still is.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord,
“He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”
Psalm 91:1-2