9/11 thoughts

*photo by Taunya Allen*

 I cleaned the house top to bottom today in preparation for the Sabbath tomorrow.  Tomorrow is 9/11.  I've been reminding myself all week, but just remembered again about half an hour ago as we watched BYU lose to Texas, which made me all mad and emotional.  Steve, a big football fan, once told me that he didn't think God could answer my "please let BYU win" prayers and that He didn't really care who won.  I suppose he's right.  Since all the players are children of God, how could He favor one team over another? 

I do think though, that God cared very much about what happened on September 11, 2001.  I believe He was terribly sad watching His children suffer at the hands of His other children.  But, like a good parent, He lets each child make his/her own choices.  And like a good parent, He comforted those who needed comfort and heard all the prayers uttered that day.  I know that.

I remember that day well.  I was a college freshman.  My roommate, Julie, and I were sleeping.  Julie woke to her phone ringing.  It was her mother calling her to tell her the news.  Julie woke me up and we watched the events replayed in the Deseret Towers T-Hall basement.  It was full of teary-eyed freshmen girls.  We all prayed together through our tears.  And like a good parent, He did comfort us.

Ten years later, I'm a wife and a mother of three.  I'm so sad when my children fight.  I wish sometimes I could force them to do what's right and protect them from all the ills of the world.  But I can't.  I teach them about God everyday, and I know that one day, one or all of them could choose to forget everything I taught them.  And I would be terribly sad.  

I also know that what I teach them matters.  I know that my constant reminders to "be kind" and my frequent singing of "Love One Another" at bed time, matter.  Someday, they are going to face the decision to get angry or forgive, to gossip or speak kind words, to be selfish or selfless.  One or all of them might remember their mother telling them to "be kind" and they would choose forgiveness, kindness, and selflessness.  And I would be so proud and so happy. 

Most likely, all of them will do both. 

So you see, I have quite a responsibility here, and unlike my Heavenly Father, I am imperfect.  I'm pretty sad about that, mostly for my children's sake.  Fortunately, my perfect parent loves to help me when I'm trying to do what's right.  I asked Him a question about one of my children recently.   The answer that came to me was both obvious and surprising.  It was this, "teach them how to serve."  I've asked many times since, "How exactly should I do that?"  The answer is pretty simple, and unfortunately, relies completely on the example of two imperfect parents.

So perhaps it's appropriate, as we embark on the tenth anniversary of 9/11, that I resolve to do a better job of loving and serving my brothers and sisters on the earth.  I think it's the only way to teach my children to do the same.   Maybe we should all do it together.