9/11 changed me, and most of the people I know. In our little town, James was a volunteer fire fighter. It hit him hard, especially that so many fire fighters were killed going in and trying to save the wounded. Particularly the chirps of the SCBA (self contained breathing apparatus), after the towers went down, and before the dust and rubble settled... they sounded. They are supposed to sound after a few moments of inactivity, so that if a fire fighter is down, he can be found.
I've been fending off a fair bit if criticism lately, for many a reason. Only one of which is my stance on the military, and today's report about Osama bin Laden. To be clear: I would *hope* that death is never the answer. And while I'm not tauting his death as something to be joyful about, I AM grateful and joyful that this particular person can no longer be the ring leader of this particular ring any longer.
Call me crazy. Call me old fashioned. Call me whatever you want. Just know that my heart is with service men and women all over the world. My soul is with Jesus, and my faith in the contentment I have for all of the above.
There are somethings I will never second guess. Hallelujah, amen, goodnight, and happy May Day.