Our entire world had changed on September 11, 2001. Living in the relative safety of northern Wisconsin, things like terrorist attacks were a distant tragedy. I prayed for the victims and the survivors and all of the affected families. I cried that evening when I drove into our yard after work and saw that Nick and Val had lowered our flag to half-mast. I called my friend in Minnesota just to hear her voice. My brother-in-law had been in Washington that morning on his way to the Pentagon. My prayers included a tearful thank-you that God had kept my loved ones out of harm’s way.
Five years after that, I felt safe in Africa. Except for the quilt-fetching incident in the slums, I was confident nothing bad would personally happen to me or the team. While we were in Kenya, however, just days before we were to leave, fourteen suspected terrorists were arrested in the London airport. With the liquids they planned to carry onto their planes, they hoped to construct bombs. Security worldwide went on high alert.
(Excerpt from Chapter 16, A Time of war and a time of peace, "A Time for Every Purpose Under Heaven: One Woman's Trip to Africa - My Story")
Ok, maybe I am a day late with this, but are we are ever too late to share, to remember, to look forward with hope and to pray without ceasing.
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