On a typical Tuesday morning in the Roome home (that's my maiden name), we would have woken up, had family devotions/prayed together, and began school. Ten years ago, though, my mom was very sick and in the hospital. My dad had the TV on in their room as he got ready to go back to the hospital. Heidi, my middle sister, and I were taking classes at Sierra College and were awake preparing to leave. Dad called us into his room.
I watched as the plane hit one of the Twin Towers. My cousin's lived in New Jersey and commuted in to Manhattan for work. I thought of them. A feeling of panic set in as I thought about the pandemonium that was happening in New York & being shown on the tv screen. Mom was still in the hospital and we didn't know when she was going to get to leave.
Dad prayed with us and Heidi and I left for school. On our way, we listened to K-LOVE, a Christian radio station in the area. As we drove, the announcers, specifically, JD Chandler said this was a very sad day. He prayed over the air for the victims in the Towers, their families, the emergency workers, our President, and country. Peace filled the car as we drove to school.
Today, 10 years later, Anthony and I went to Loomis. We drove on the same freeway Heidi and I had taken that day. As I write this post, my heart is filled with gratitude for the people that risked their lives to save others. I am also amazed by the power of prayer. I can still remember the peace of God that filled our little car that day. That peace is available now and always.