Monday, September 11, 2006

September 11, 2006

Today is the anniversary of two events. My mom was born on this day several decades ago, and five years ago today we all watched in horror as the second plane hit and we knew that this was no horrific blunder, but a deliberate attack on the United States. Then we watched, tears streaming down our faces as people leapt to their deaths, escaping who knows what horrors, then as the towers fell. We listened in disbelief to the reports of Flight 93 and of the attack on the Pentagon.

I believed that this was my generation's Pearl Harbor. I still believe that. The enemy isn't as clear, and operates without a defined military presence and is not under the overt and readily recognizable control of any one government, but is instead a stealth operation of factions of Islam. That most of the Muslim world seeks our destruction and that of Isreal should not really surprise us, but it does. We are a hopelessly naive culture, more and more taken up in the artificial worlds of fashion, celebrity worship, entertainment and sports. We seek merely to continue to have a good time and not to be troubled with "that stuff".

We dislike facing harsh realities. We want the world to have no complications, no difficult riddles, no choices more difficult than which lip gloss is more kissable. We want to continue our football pools, our parties, our mind-numbing entertainment, our vain pursuits. I include myself.

My son is in Iraq, fighting a war that is unrecognizable by any historical battle I read about. He has internet service, often makes phone calls home, orders entertainment from Ebay or Amazon.com, and has learned to tolerate being shot at. It's terribly hot, very uncomfortable and mind-numbingly boring. Thank God! And thank him for not telling me all the bad stuff. I worry about him enough as it is.

I love my country, but I can't say that I would be thrilled to give my son for her. I am terribly proud of him, but I want MY son to come home. I want all our sons and daughters to come home, but I especially want MINE.

This war has cost me nothing but increased gas prices and unpleasant news. Nothing, that is, except my son, who chose to join the Army after we were already at war.

I'm conflicted. I believe that we have to defend ourselves, even seek vengeance on those who brought such evil upon us, and that a sovereign nation must defend and even be on the offense after such an assault, but I don't really believe this war is winnable. It must be fought, but it is an unwinnable war. Oh, perhaps short-term we may beat back the militant arm of Islam, but if history teaches us anything it is that Islam will rise again and again and seek the destruction of the non-Muslim world, particularly Isreal. The fight began with a child born to Hagar and another born to Sarah. The conflict has been there ever since.

We cannot give in to this threat or the world will head into a great darkness the like of which has not been seen in hundreds of years. I don't mean to dismiss the horrors of Nazi concentration camps and the destruction of millions of Jews, cripples and other "undesirable" peoples, but I truly believe this would be worse for the world in general. However, when I think about prophecy I am left to wonder if this signifies the end times. If so, worse than war will be the peace that then will lead to a storm of sorrows the world has never seen.

September 11th. A good day to think. Also, the first day I saw snow on Pikes Peak. Just a lacy shawl so far, and this will melt away before winter hits, but it was lovely and a pleasure all the same.