In The Stairwell With God

You say you will never forget where you were when you heard the news on September 11th, 2001, neither will I.

I was on the 110th floor in a smoke filled room with a man who called his wife to say goodbye.

I held his fingers steady as he dialed.

I gave him the peace to say “Honey I’m not going to make it.”

I was with his wife when he called.

I held her up as she realized he wasn’t coming home that night.

I was in the stairwell of the 23rd floor when a woman cried out to me for help.

“I have been knocking on the door of your heart for fifty years,” I said.

I was at the base of the building with the pastor, ministering to the injured.

I took him home to tend to his flock in heaven.

I was on all four of those planes, with every seat, with every prayer.

I was with the crew as they were overtaken.

I was in the hearts of the very frightened souls, comforting and assuring them that their faith had saved them.

I want you to know that I saw every face.

I knew every name, but not all of you knew me.

Some met me for the very first time on the 86th floor.

Some sought me with their last breath.

Some chose for the final time to ignore me, but I was there.

I did not place you in the tower that day.

You may not know why, but I do.

September 11th, 2001 was not the end of the journey for you, but someday your journey will end and I will be there for you as well.

Seek me now while I may be found, for I will be in the stairwell of your final moments.

God