Thirteen years has passed since two airliners were flown into the World Trade Center, one into the Pentagon and one crashed after heroic passengers attempted to take on their high-jackers. It doesn't take much to remember what I was doing when I heard of the attacks. The trips I took to respond, as so many other Americans did, to support and minister to New Yorkers immediatly invokes a lot of emotion. At times in discussion with others that responded I will even smell the stench of the rubble as if I was still there. But most of all my heart cries for those who were lost and the many I met, prayed with, spoke with and cried with that lost loved ones or had the haunting experience of being in Manhattan that day.

I haven't had the opportunity yet to return to see the 9/11 Memorial but I will. However, with tears, my prayers continue to be presented to the Lord on behalf of those still hurting, for those wives and children of first responders who gave their lives saving others, for the people of New York and for our nation.

Blessings

pBob