I don’t want your partner, your family, or your sphere of influence to ever suffer what I and my loved ones have. But I’m willing to live under the weight of those headlines if it means that others will let those bold letters guide them to health, freedom, and a more attractive gospel.
I’m still proud of my country. I still hate that thousands of innocent and heroic people died that day. I’m still amazed at the incredible character and sacrifice of those who ran toward danger rather than away—both at the sites of the attacks and later on foreign soil. I still understand why our elected officials made the decisions they did after the coordinated foreign attacks. But I don’t want to remember the same things my Facebook connections do about September 11. Even more, I wish the world had heard something very different from America than they have over the past 19 years.
In the meantime, we can dream. We can hope. We can hear the news and pray for those affected. We can ask for the Source of empathy to wrap his arms around the hurting. We can give to charities on the ground of each conflict or disaster. We can leverage the privilege of our safety to wish it for someone else.