I Remember...

***Please know that the following post is a statement of my feelings about The War on Terror. I am not looking to get into a heated debate with anyone. I am simply stating my opinion. Both my husband and my oldest son have served in the Middle East during this war, my son on multiple occasions. I am an American and as such, I have the freedom (thanks to my husband and son and their fellow military men and women) to write this post. You have the freedom (also thanks to my husband and son and their fellow military men and women) to not read it.***

Six years ago today, America was attacked. Randey (my husband) was in Australia on a training mission with his Air Force unit. We were actually speaking to each other on the phone when the first plane hit. I remember thinking that either a traffic controller sent the wrong coordinates to that plane or something was seriously wrong with the pilot. Randey understood what was happening long before I did. Long before. I didn't want to believe those planes were deliberately, and with malice of forethought, flown directly into those crowded buildings. The sheer evilness of it just didn't compute with me. As the minutes and hours crawled by, I realized the enormity of these heinous acts against humanity, for that is exactly what they were. Every good person on the planet lost something on that day...either their innocence, their trust, their faith or their hearts. We all sustained damage. But what the terrorists didn't count on was that we also found something that day, too. We found solidarity, we found hope, we found courage, we found love, we found each other. Today, six years later, however, I fear we've lost much of what we had gained. We've forgotten why our men and women are overseas fighting for us. Much of the war has been turned into political fodder. I'm so tired of seeing and hearing Democrats and Republicans bickering over whether or not we ever should have gone to Iraq. I'm just sick of it. And I'm going to state my opinion of if we should have gone there. We are America, the last so called "Superpower" in the world. We have freedom, democracy and might. Don't we, as Americans, have some sort of responsibility to help those that are downtrodden? I've heard many a person say "Saddam Hussein may have been evil, but he hadn't done anything to us". Oh. Well, guess that means we should have let him continue on with his evil ways...just as long as we weren't bothered, inconvenienced or harmed. After all, it's not like we became Americans by the sheer Grace of God. No, no, no...we earned this privilege and if the rest of those losers out there who are being murdered, imprisoned, raped, etc. simply for sport don't like it, maybe they should work as hard as we did for the right to be like us. Right? Well that's just not the way it is. We are so blessed to be in this country. I don't know why my soul was born into this body, in this country. I just don't know why that happened. But I am grateful for it. I am grateful that I have food to eat, a roof over my head, vehicles to drive. You know, while I - the American - sit around the house and wonder just what fall decorations I should put up and where - there are people all around the world who are wondering if they'll see another sunrise. Or if their child will. I am lucky. I am grateful. And I know in my heart of hearts that I should be doing more to help my fellow man in this world. What I shouldn't be doing, is saying that evil is okay, as long as it doesn't directly affect me. Because there's just no such thing as "contained evil". All evil affects all people. It's just a matter of how we react. I take this following quote to heart. Do you?

No One Left To Speak Up For Me
First they came for the Communists, and I didn't speak up, because I wasn't a Communist. Then they came for the Jews, and I didn't speak up, because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for the Catholics, and I didn't speak up, because I was a Protestant. Then they came for me, and by that time there was no one left to speak up for me.
Rev. Martin Niemoller, 1945