8 AM classes are always the worst.
Especially when that 8 AM class is Music Theory I. There are not too many things that are as hard to wake up for as music theory. Even for all of you music geeks out there that take your music major WAY too seriously (I know who you are...I was a music major with your for a while), theory at 8 AM is rough. Even more so when you are a college freshman and enjoying the greatness of staying up til 3 in the morning on instant messenger. The great thing about some of these classes is that the professor understands its early, so on quiz days, you get to leave class early and hopefully catch a 30 minute nap before your next class.
That is kind of what happened on this particular Tuesday: 8 AM music theory, out by 8.30, talk to a couple of folks in the hallway, and then trek back across campus to hit the comforts of the bed. That's when I walked into my dorm room at 8.44, crawled into my bunk, knocked out, only to be awakened by my roommate at 9.17 as he enters in a frenzy.
If you haven't guessed by now, the day was Tuesday, September 11, 2001.
That was a day that changed everything in our world. Class no longer mattered. Sports no longer mattered. The emotions of our suite mate who had a crazy ex-girlfriend no longer mattered. Every eye on our campus was on every TV that was tuned into every possible news outlet to find out what in the world just happened. Even our hermit of a President, who you only saw on campus with the big wigs from whom he was hoping to schmooze some cash for his next project, made rounds through the freshman dorms to see how we were handling the news. America was under attack.
I will be one of the first to admit that I have never been overly patriotic. I love July 4th more than other holidays because I love the fireworks. I really like the old marches of John Phillip Sousa. So, don't think I am a flag burner or anything like that. But, patriotism has not been my chief obsession. I love this country and I can related to Lee Greenwood in that I am proud to be an American. I am honored to know that many of my childhood friends enlisted in our military to fight for our country and that my dad and both grandfathers did the same.
But I also remember 18 year old me. Somewhat numb to the events of that day twelve years ago, but also somewhat confused by the rapid spark of patriotism by people I had known for years that never really seemed to care. I told my wife just a few weeks ago that I find myself growing more patriotic as I get older. Maybe it's because the America I remember from my childhood seems so distant from the America in which I live today. Maybe it's because it seems that freedom really isn't free. Maybe it's because I see so much brokenness and I desperately want the Holy Spirit of God to flood this land again and wash us ALL in the blood of Jesus.
Whatever the case may be, whatever (you or) I do or do not remember about September 11, 2001, one thing remains: the mercy and justice of God. I came under great chastisement by my freshman English professor and the aforementioned President of the University for a reflection paper I wrote on September 13, 2001. In it, I highlighted the fact that God has demonstrated that He does hold all things in account and that through the Old Testament the people of God were continually brought to their knees because of their sin. Further, the New Testament highlights the need for God's people EVERYWHERE to live as though God has actually made a difference in their lives. I stopped short of saying that God issued a great warning to America on 9/11. However, in my heart I believed then as I do now that to be true.
As you pause to remember what happened that day, also remember Who brought us to this land in the first place. Was it not God directing the hearts of men and women seeking a land where they could freely seek Him? Further, I urge you to remember the Cross of Christ, where His blood was shed to buy you a freedom far greater than what warfare or diplomacy may bring. Remember the God of your salvation (Jonah 2.9; Psalm 121.1). Remember the cost of your freedom (1 Peter 3.18; Gal. 5.1, 13). Remember who alone provides our security (Acts 17.26-27; Psalm 46.1).
Especially when that 8 AM class is Music Theory I. There are not too many things that are as hard to wake up for as music theory. Even for all of you music geeks out there that take your music major WAY too seriously (I know who you are...I was a music major with your for a while), theory at 8 AM is rough. Even more so when you are a college freshman and enjoying the greatness of staying up til 3 in the morning on instant messenger. The great thing about some of these classes is that the professor understands its early, so on quiz days, you get to leave class early and hopefully catch a 30 minute nap before your next class.
That is kind of what happened on this particular Tuesday: 8 AM music theory, out by 8.30, talk to a couple of folks in the hallway, and then trek back across campus to hit the comforts of the bed. That's when I walked into my dorm room at 8.44, crawled into my bunk, knocked out, only to be awakened by my roommate at 9.17 as he enters in a frenzy.
If you haven't guessed by now, the day was Tuesday, September 11, 2001.
That was a day that changed everything in our world. Class no longer mattered. Sports no longer mattered. The emotions of our suite mate who had a crazy ex-girlfriend no longer mattered. Every eye on our campus was on every TV that was tuned into every possible news outlet to find out what in the world just happened. Even our hermit of a President, who you only saw on campus with the big wigs from whom he was hoping to schmooze some cash for his next project, made rounds through the freshman dorms to see how we were handling the news. America was under attack.
I will be one of the first to admit that I have never been overly patriotic. I love July 4th more than other holidays because I love the fireworks. I really like the old marches of John Phillip Sousa. So, don't think I am a flag burner or anything like that. But, patriotism has not been my chief obsession. I love this country and I can related to Lee Greenwood in that I am proud to be an American. I am honored to know that many of my childhood friends enlisted in our military to fight for our country and that my dad and both grandfathers did the same.
But I also remember 18 year old me. Somewhat numb to the events of that day twelve years ago, but also somewhat confused by the rapid spark of patriotism by people I had known for years that never really seemed to care. I told my wife just a few weeks ago that I find myself growing more patriotic as I get older. Maybe it's because the America I remember from my childhood seems so distant from the America in which I live today. Maybe it's because it seems that freedom really isn't free. Maybe it's because I see so much brokenness and I desperately want the Holy Spirit of God to flood this land again and wash us ALL in the blood of Jesus.
Whatever the case may be, whatever (you or) I do or do not remember about September 11, 2001, one thing remains: the mercy and justice of God. I came under great chastisement by my freshman English professor and the aforementioned President of the University for a reflection paper I wrote on September 13, 2001. In it, I highlighted the fact that God has demonstrated that He does hold all things in account and that through the Old Testament the people of God were continually brought to their knees because of their sin. Further, the New Testament highlights the need for God's people EVERYWHERE to live as though God has actually made a difference in their lives. I stopped short of saying that God issued a great warning to America on 9/11. However, in my heart I believed then as I do now that to be true.
As you pause to remember what happened that day, also remember Who brought us to this land in the first place. Was it not God directing the hearts of men and women seeking a land where they could freely seek Him? Further, I urge you to remember the Cross of Christ, where His blood was shed to buy you a freedom far greater than what warfare or diplomacy may bring. Remember the God of your salvation (Jonah 2.9; Psalm 121.1). Remember the cost of your freedom (1 Peter 3.18; Gal. 5.1, 13). Remember who alone provides our security (Acts 17.26-27; Psalm 46.1).
"Some boast in chariots
And some in horses,
But we will boast in the name
of the Lord, our God."
Psalm 20.7 (NASB)
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