It was 3:00am, the morning of nine-eleven-two thousand three...

As a counselor I am taught to look for triggers from my past to find the answers to my present situation. Well, I finally found some of the answers. I need to tell you that I have been struggling since I received some bad e-mails a few weeks ago. After the e-mails I decided to post my statement of faith. Well, I assumed I would feel much better after the post....but I didn't. The more I tried to pretend that I was better...the worse I got! So, I finally faced the dark cloud that I have fought all month. The dark cloud is September 11. The day the US was attacked. As a blogger I try so hard to stay out of any political wars. But, I have realized this is not a war against other bloggers or those with different beliefs.......this is a war within myself. Here is an excerpt from my book. Perhaps this will help others understand me. And give you an idea of the confusion I experience at times. My daughter found this picture and I decided to add it to my words. This is a picture of all the many people who died on September 11. Note, this is how my book begins. Only by acknowledgment can one find healing. It was 3:00am, the morning of nine-eleven-two thousand three. The flashing lights from my clock lit the room. It was too early to be awake, a heavy sick feeling rested in my stomach. Was it the memory of my husband’s family, and the friends they lost this day, two years ago...? Or could it be that this day held something even more frightening…? My mind drifted back…

My husband was born and raised in New York before he began his trip out west to attend Bible College. It was there we met, in the early 1980’s, and were married shortly after. The mid-west would become our home, but New York City was where my new family lived. After twenty years I felt like I was part of this large family and New York was my favorite visiting place, with so much love and happy memories. Every visit meant that incredible view of the Twin Towers from my in-laws window. The view shared so many people on their way to work everyday, each with a different face, and a different story to tell. The morning of the attack seemed like any other morning. I was in my home switching the channels on the television when, in a flash, fear filled the air. A plane had hit one of the towers, and within minutes, another plane went soaring through its twin. Instantly, a blanket of confusion and grief covered the United States.

Knowing that my brother-in-law worked as a New York City police officer, the reality that his life could be in danger was causing my family to panic. He managed a brief phone call assuring us that he was alive, but as the phone went dead seconds later, I felt myself slipping. I was losing all my happy memories and the only past I had chosen to tell my children. As the day went by, it felt like weeks. Once again, death was only moments away from those I love. The day America lost so many lives reminded me of my loss also, the loss of my own childhood and the reality of the dark cavity resting within me. I was no longer able to forget my childhood and to tell only the stories of my life in New York City. Now, this incredible city would be another tragedy from which I must run.

As I lay in bed, I closed my eyes tightly and curled up, wanting to forget about the huge dark cloud and the belief that there was nowhere to hide from danger. It would become impossible to escape from the flashbacks of my past. I slowly pulled the covers up over my head and tried to return to sleep. Soon enough, the alarm clock went off and my day began like every other. My secrets keep pushing me into a world only I know, and cause me to feel like a shadow forced to wear a mask.

I drag myself out of bed, the darkness ever-present around me. Which mask should I wear today? Mother? Wife? Or one of the many other masks I have stored away? I turn on the light and step onto the stage we all call life..... I no longer wear a mask....but, the pain is still very real. The comments about this war has only given me a desire to hide. But, this time I will stand tall and acknowlege what is. The war is not only between countries, but, a battle within each of us. We need to face our past and quit fighting it. Due to the last post I feel the need to let you know that I write in first person (so I can find healing through the words I type). I am not a victim....I am a strong person who has the strength to tell what is...even if it makes others uncomfortable. Only by acknowledging your past can you give it to God and find healing!!! If you have an elephant in the closet, do you pretend it's not there? Or do you let it out and see it for what it is. BTW The longer the elephant is in the closet the bigger it gets!!!