Rachel Young

saturday, september 15, 2001

Last night, I walked out on the roof of my building with a candle and my guitar. No one ever comes up to the roof, and since I live on the top floor, it's pretty accessible. It's my very own personal safe haven. So on the rooftop, I had a quiet candlelight vigil that lasted over an hour.

As I stood there, my eyes scanned the city skyline and focused on two objects: the tip of the Empire State building and the cloud of smoke downtown. I still can’t get over the fact that in a matter of minutes, what was once a permanent fixture has now been completely demolished. What I used to stare at every night is no longer there.

And then I’m reminded of the people who are no longer here, which is the real devastation of this entire crisis. This is what makes me question the senselessness of it all.

But in the past few days, I’ve slowly gained a sense of peace through the personal time I’ve spent in prayer and meditation. Burying myself in God’s word and listening to praise songs (Simply Worship with Darlene Zchech and Cutting Edge by Delirious are my absolute favorite) have helped me to feel more at peace and more whole than I have in a very long time.

I imagine if God were not a patient being, He’d be beyond frustrated with me at this point. Why does it have to take something like this to bring about undying devotion and faith on my part? Last time I felt this intimately close with God was while I was recovering from my accident over three years ago.

I’m just a brickhead who is hard of learning.

But a brickhead who trusts that all is in God’s good hands.

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