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God Bless America, land that I love
Stand beside her, and guide her,
Through the night with a light from above
From the mountains, and the valleys,
To the oceans white with foam,
God bless America, my home sweet home.

Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands.
Protect them as they protect us.
Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they
Perform for us in our time of need.
I ask this in the name of Jesus, our Lord and Savior.
Amen

The world is irrevocably changed
'Untouchable' safe haven
No longer feels that way
Naiveté crumbled with steel
There are no words
Though so much has been said
Unfathomable, unforgettable images
Pain, immeasurable
Loss, incomprehensible
Consequences, untold
The anger seethes and
Disbelief abounds
Always more information, but never enough
Especially for those who wait
Heroes born in death and
Heroes created by the minute
Who can possibly continue on with
The cruel tasks
Somehow spirits surge and
Unity brings might
Ever unconquerable America
And its people
Pray to your God
Revere your freedom
Respect

Behave
Hope
Help
Thank

Lori Castle.........September 13, 2001...........In Remembrance

I wonder what she thought
As she stood there, strong and tall.
She couldn't turn away,
She was forced to watch it all.

Did she long to offer comfort
As her country bled?
With her arm forever frozen
High above her head.

She could not shield her eyes
She could not hide her face
She just stared across the water
Keeping Freedom's place.

The smell of smoke and terror
Somehow reduced her size
So small within the harbor
But still we recognized...

How dignified and beautiful
On a day so many died
I wonder what she thought,
And I know she must have cried.

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One

As the soot and dirt and ash rained down,
We became one color.
As we carried each other down the stairs
of the burning building,
We became one class.
As we lit candles of waiting and hope,
We became one generation.
As the firefighters and police officers
fought their way into the inferno,
We became one gender.
As we fell to our knees in prayer for strength,
We became one faith.
As we whispered or shouted words of encouragement,
We spoke one language.
As we gave our blood in lines a mile long,
We became one body.
As we mourned together the great loss,
We became one family.
As we cried tears of grief and loss,
We became one soul.
As we retell with pride of the sacrifice of heroes,
We become one people.

We are:
One color
One class
One generation
One gender
One faith
One language
One body
One family
One soul
One people

We are The Power of One.
We are United.
We are America.

2 Timothy 1:7

"When you are a believer your life is in the hands of God."
After watching many TV 9/11 anniversary rehearsals,
I had begun to dwell on the facts...
and not on the belief that God is in charge of my life.
Where can I hide when my faith and trust is in shaky territory,
and the world is in a holding pattern waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I find the answer in God's word.
"Thou art my hiding place" Psalm 32:7
We are not always exempt from the troubles around us,
but we can have a peace in the fact that Jesus Himself prayed to
His father for us saying,
"I do not ask You to take them out of the world,
but to keep them from the evil one" John 17:15
"Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee.
Because he trusts in Thee." Isaiah 26:3
Jesus said, "Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you,
I do not give to you as the world gives" John 14:27
"Let not your heart be troubled neither let it be afraid."
God's Spirit and His word gives me confidence for
the future He has planned for me.
PS. Pray for the families of those that perished
that they will find everlasting peace through Jesus Christ.

"Call to Remember and to Prayer"

A year ago terror showed up unannounced.
It didn't call ahead.
And because it didn't, when we opened the door
to see who was there we discovered three thousand were dead.
Instead of business as usual, Wall Street closed.
A street without walls took stock in what really matters.
Precious metals lacked their normal luster
when compared to precious lives.
The world traded naïve security for open-ended war.
When the Big Apple was shaken to the core by
jet-size bullets, the entire nation quaked.
Caught off guard, Americans didn't fake courage.
Patriotic hearts beat as one but raced in fear.
Seizing whatever faith we had, we fell to our knees.
We could tell that pledging allegiance to a flag
could not take the place of calling out to God.
It was a day that proved that those who live in the land
of the free and the home of the brave know how to
behave when push comes to shove and terror comes to stay.
We pray. But only then?
The 11th of September calls us to remember (and understand)
that a nation can only be indivisible under God.
We can't just fly a flag.
We have to fold our hands.
Suffice it to say, we've been called to pray.
Not just when terror rings the bell.
But every single day.

Rev. Greg Asimakoupoulos

A Powerful Poem - 911

It was late one Tuesday evening, before a mother could sit down,
To tell her only child about the terror that hit downtown.
She looked into the eyes of her son, God, she loved him so,
She felt her heart begin to break, and the hurt begin to show.
She gathered all her strength and courage, as her story she began to tell.
"Baby don't cry, but I'm afraid daddy might be under a building that fell."
The boy looked back at his mother, his eyes made not one blink.
And the mother's tears began to fall. What would her baby think?
You see, his dad is a firefighter, and his hero from the day of his birth.
He loved his dad more than anything else that could ever inherit this earth.
The mother's head began to drop, her forehead resting on palm.
She thought her son would be upset. Instead, he was very calm.
The boy leaned over towards his mom, and put his hand upon her head.
In her ear he began to whisper, and this is what he said:
"Mommy please don't cry, I knew daddy wasn't coming home.
I talked to him just a while ago, but it wasn't on the phone.
He told me that he loved me, and he promised we'd meet again.
He told of his new home, and the job he was to begin."
"God is building an army, and there are many angels needed.
That, is where daddy and the others went. They weren't all defeated."
It was then, the mother lifted her head. The tears streamed down her face.
And she could feel her husband's presence, as it filled her heart with grace.
It was then she knew her son was right. He was in God's great army now.
She also knew her son was safe, that he'd be kept from harm somehow.
So, evildoers of the world beware. An army is on the way.
Bolstered by new angels, who left the towers that day..
Their commander has never been beaten.
His power has never been matched,
And if evil thinks He was almighty before
Well, the surface has just been scratched!

GOD BLESS AMERICA !!!!!

Memorial...........A Year Has Gone By

Though a year has gone by,
and when we felt there were no more tears to cry
The memory of that day haunts us still.
We still ask why and always will
How a clear blue sky could fade that day,
and when it all cleared so many were lost
Such a price to pay, and now a year has gone by
And we come here to once again say good-bye
The memories still brings tears to our eyes
It's time we moved on we realize.
It's time to cease to ask the question why
Bowing our heads in a prayer.
Knowing that they hear us somewhere up there
And if you're looking down on all of us today
You'll see you're in our hearts each and every day
And when our time here comes to an end,
know we'll be together once again

Louise Riveiro - Mitchell aka Cheyenne Autumn Sky
In Memory of Sept. 11, 2001 ( 1 year later)

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Nothing Is Lost.
We are too sad to know that, or too blind;
Only in visited moments do we understand:
It is not that the dead return -
They are about us always, though unguessed.

Poem With No Name

I watched the flag pass by one day. It fluttered in the breeze
A young Marine saluted it, and then he stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform so young, so tall, so proud
With hair cut square and eyes alert he'd stand out in any crowd.

I thought, how many men like him
Had fallen through the years?
How many died on foreign soil?
How many pilots planes shot down?
How many foxholes were Soldiers' graves?
No, Freedom is not Free.

I heard the sound of Taps one night,
When everything was still.
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.

I wondered just how many times
That Taps had meant "Amen"
When a flag had draped a coffin
of a brother or a friend.

I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.

I thought about a graveyard at the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.

No, Freedom isn't Free!!

Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill,
that we shall pay any price,
bear any burden,
meet any hardship,
support any friend,
oppose any foe to assure the survival
and the success of liberty.

JFK

We are moved by the alarming news and crisis that our
country is facing. This is the greatest nation,
founded in the belief that
In God We Trust, the Land of the Free.
Please have mercy on those suffering, hurting and in fear,
and give wisdom, and strength to those who are assisting.
May the forces of evil be broken by Your power and may we
be humble before Thee, our strength and refuge.
Give wisdom to our President, our leaders and bring
Your comforting peace through the power of Your Holy Spirit.
Help us reach out to those that have been affected by this tragedy.

In the name of Our Lord and Savior, Christ Jesus

It is since Christianity has left the lives of most
homes in North America that evil has risen and
it is not a small thing.
Now, after many years of negligence,
the enemy (in all its forms) hit real hard
and many innocent lives were claimed,
but is the nation blameless?
I'm not sure, for there is more to all this than
just a political/religious matter...
There is also spiritual truth,
God, who's been put aside more than ever in the last 30 years.
So at times I wonder if God is still for this nation,
or if this nation as a whole is still for God,
for: Romans 8:31 says:
What then shall we say to these things?
If God be for us, who can be against us?
I believe it's time that all this nation gets back to
its first love, that they ask God forgiveness and
repent of their sins, if we want to have God back on
our court as a nation.
Or as Revelations 2:4-7 says:
Yet I hold this against you;
you have forsaken your first love.
Remember the height from which you have fallen,
Repent, and do the things you did at first.
If you do not repent, I will come to you
and remove your lamp stand from its place.
unless you repent.
The one who has an ear, let him
hear what the Spirit says to the churches.
To him that overcomes, I will give the right
to eat from the Tree of Life which is in the
Paradise of God.

Let us pray for the victims and the victim's families,
but most of all let us pray for this nation who
needs God more than ever,
that its people be touched,
and open their eyes.
God Bless you all

Reflection

The following passage is from a sermon by John Hagee:

I want you to close your eyes and picture in your mind
the soldier at Valley Forge, as he holds his musket
in his bloody hands. He stands barefoot in the snow,
starved from lack of food, wounded from months of battle
and emotionally scarred from the eternity away from his
family surrounded by nothing but death and carnage of war.
He stands though, with fire in his eyes and victory on his breath.
He looks at us now in anger and disgust and tells us this...
I gave you a birthright of freedom born in the Constitution
and now your children graduate too illiterate to read it.
I fought in the snow barefoot to give you the freedom to vote
and you stay at home because it rains.
I left my family destitute to give you the freedom of speech
and you remain silent on critical issues,
because it might be bad for business.
I orphaned my children to give you a government to serve
you and it has stolen democracy from the people.
It's the soldier not the reporter who gives you the freedom of the press.
It's the soldier not the poet who gives you the freedom of speech.
It's the soldier not the campus organizer who allows you to demonstrate.
It's the soldier who salutes the flag, serves the flag, whose coffin is
draped with the flag that allows the protester to burn the flag!!!

"Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands.
Protect them as they protect us.
Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they
perform for us in our time of need.
I ask this in the name of Jesus, Our Lord and Savior. Amen."

When you receive this, please stop for a moment and say a
prayer for our U.S. ground troops in Afghanistan,
AND all over this world.
Of all the gifts you could give a US Soldier,
Prayer is the very best one...

Believe the unbelievable...

Who Am I

The little boy that gives up his favorite teddy bear so
that a stranger may be comforted

I'm the single mother who has been trying to teach her
children to sleep in their own beds who now holds them tight
long into the night thanking God it wasn't her child that died

I'm the old man, angry and resentful that his military
doesn't want him because of his age

I'm the teenaged girl that spends hours cutting ribbons for
others to wear as a symbol of remembrance

I'm the young man who doesn't understand why his father
was running up the stairs as the building fell,
trying to save just one more person, instead of saving himself

I'm the old woman who will never see her grandchild again

I'm the little girl, playing with her doll
who can't understand when someone screams hateful
things at her because of where her family is from

I'm the police officer, trying to keep idiotic reporters safe
when his wife is still among the missing

I'm the firefighter that called in sick that day only to
discover that someone else died in his place

I'm the man who survived the falling building
only to learn that his sister and baby niece were in the plane

I'm the secretary, angered by the seemingly callous
response of those around her

I'm a spelunker, who is climbing down into the remains of
a building hoping to find someone still alive

I'm the dog handler, searching for bodies that has to
comfort my animal when only death remains

I'm the woman who stands in line for five hours
in order to give blood, hoping to help strangers in need

I'm the man who gets up and goes to work every day
in spite of the tragedy, because he still has a family to feed

I'm the first passenger to get back on a plane even though
I'm terrified because I know somebody has to be first

Who am I?
I'm nobody special
I'm just an American

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and the Earth stood still..... stunned.

The moment of innocence in time
A place now left in childhoods rhyme.
America The Home of The Free
Bowed heads in prayer
Brought down on bended knee
Time will never erase the tears
Nor erode the memory by years
That day innocence lost
So many paid the ultimate cost.

Proudly we raised our head
Then we buried our dead
So many lives changed
But our hearts and love remained
Freedom....continues to ring
GOD Bless America and the
Star Spangled Banner we sing
Forever.... we will never forget
America The Beautiful still yet

By the Grace of God and the fine
Men and Women serving our country,
We will never give up nor forget.

God Bless and keep you safe each one.

Thank You.

An Angel peers through the glass,
In the stillness of the night.
New York City in her view,
Is she ready for her plight?
God told her only yesterday,
What will happen after dawn.
He vowed that He would be there too,
As the aircrafts left the ground.
Oh, that fateful September morn...
the Angels in the heavens,
were called to be at that shore.
Why can't this be prevented?
said the Angel to Our Lord,
Do all those people need to die?
Is that why they were born?
Looking into the eyes of the Angel,
Our Lord proclaimed to her,
These very special children,
vowed so long ago,
To help all mankind to evolve,
make it better than before.
The bravest of the brave
is how they will always be known.
They gave their life so all may see
Freedom, Justice and Liberty.
They will bring the nations together,
as they've never been before.
They will lead the world to where,
Peace and Love prevail forever more.
The world will heal together,
One by one, shore to shore.
My children who are left behind,
will look to the heavens above,
Wondering how I let this happen,
to the ones that they all love.
We will have to let them know,
that their loved ones are safe and sound.
Their physical bodies are only a shell
that walked upon the ground.
The eternal soul is living,
it can never be destroyed.
They live forever in your heart,
no one can take that away.
We will whisper in their ears,
and appear into their dreams.
We will let them feel the gentle brush
of your Angel wings, whenever you are near.
We will let them know that they are loved,
by all that they hold dear.
An Angel looks toward the city,
to the west upon the fields,
She then turns her head again...
on to Washington D.C.
She bows her head and turns away,
for tomorrow they will be no more.
She kneels in prayer to God above,
for strength that she will need.
She will carry them to heaven,
so many she will bereave.
She will return, so many times,
over the next few days...
She will carry them to meet Our Lord,
while humankind sits in a daze.
But many of her Angel friends,
will be watching over Earth.
To help and heal the hurt and pain,
and diminish all the fears.
©Donna/Angels On My Side

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God, Father of freedom, look after that boy of mine,
wherever he may be.
Walk in upon him. Keep his mind stayed on Thee.
Talk with him during the silent watches of the night, and spur
him to bravery whenever called upon to face the cruel foe.
Transfer my prayer to his heart, that he may know the lingering
love I have bequeathed to him as an everlasting gift.
Keep my boy contented and inspired by the never-dying
faith in his mother's God.
He is my gift to freedom.
May that freedom forever remain untarnished, God.
Through the lonely and confusing hours of training and combat,
and throughout all the long days of hopeful victory,
keep his spirit high and his purpose unwavering.
Make him a proud pal to all with whom he comes in contact and
make his influence a noonday light wherever his duty takes him.
Nourish that boy of mine with the love
that I gave to him at birth, God.
Satisfy the hunger of his soul with the knowledge
of this daily prayer of mine.
To my country, and to world freedom,
O Heavenly Father, have I bequeathed this boy of mine.
He is my choicest treasure.
Take care of him, God.
Keep him in health and sustain him under
every possible circumstance of events.
I once warmed him, God, under my heart.
You warm him anew under his shelter under the stars.
Touch him with my smile of cheer and comfort,
and my full confidence in his every brave pursuit.
Silent and alone, I pray, God,
but I am only one of millions of mothers,
whose prayers stream day and night to You.
This is our Gethsemane.
Lead us victoriously through it, God.
And lead that boy of mine through his.
Fail him not - and may he not fail You,
his country, nor the mother who bore him.
That's all, God.

George Matthew Adams

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"Wish You Were Here"

For all the free people that still protest.
You're welcome.
We protect you and you are protected by the best.
Your voice is strong and loud,
but who will fight for you?
No one standing in your crowd.
We are your fathers, brothers, and sons,
wearing the boots and carrying guns.
We are the ones that leave all we own,
to make sure your future is carved in stone.
We are the ones who fight and die.
We might not be able to save the world,
Well, at least we try.
We walked the paths to where we are at
and we want no choice other than that.
so when you rally your group to complain,
take a look in the back of your brain.
In order for that flag you love to fly
wars must be fought and young men must die.
We came here to fight for the ones we hold dear.
If that's not respected, we would rather stay here.
So please stop yelling, put down your signs,
and pray for those behind enemy lines.
When the conflict is over and all is well,
be thankful that we chose to go through hell.

Corporal Joshua Miles and all the boys
from 3rd Battalion 2nd Marines, Kuwait

Yesterday we were a country
Full of hate and greed
Fighting with each other
We just could not agree
But out of the blue
came a wake up call
The Twin Towers consumed
By a ravaging fireball
It took the lives of friends
It took the lives of lovers
It took the lives of children
as we cling to one another
Why did God allow this to happen
So many of us cried
as we sift through the rubble
finding the bodies who have died
Oh our Heavenly Father
How do we make them understand
That we destroy ourselves
when we don't follow Your plan
That the attackers who unmercifully
took the lives of those we loved
did not have You on their minds
did not think of You above
But out of the ashes
came a great Revelation
that this horrible tragedy
did get our attention
For once we are kneeling
asking You to give us strength
to help us with the hurt
to help us with the pain
To help us find a loved one
or to give us strength as we search
I can't believe it took this
for Your voice to be heard
This country was founded on God
and yet we have pushed You to the side
too consumed with money and greed
just having a wonderful ride
Today was a horrible tragedy
But we will come to stand again
As long as we keep our eyes on You
we will have our own master plan
Instead of walking ahead of God
or just keeping Him in your sight
for once realize the truth in Him
walk with Him side by side

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A Fireman's Prayer

Brother when you weep for me remember that it was meant to be
Lay me down and when you leave remember I'll be at your sleeve
In every dark and choking hall I'll be there as you slowly crawl
On every roof in driving snow I'll hold your coat and you will know
In cellars hot with searing heat at windows where a gate you meet
In closets where young children hide you know I'll be there at your side
The House from which I now respond is overstaffed with heroes gone
Men who answered one last bell did the job and did it well
As firemen we understand that death's a card dealt in our hand
A card we hope we never play but one we hold there anyway
That card is something we ignore as we crawl across a weakened floor
For we know that we're the only prayer for anyone that might be there
So remember as you wipe your tears the joy I knew throughout the years
As I did the job I loved to do I pray that thought will see you through.

Our Troops...

For all of the many days away
And the nights you’ve spent alone
For all of the time you have given
The love and dedication you have shown.

For all of the things that you’ve been through,
The sacrifices you have made
Whether sitting in an office
Or dodging bullets and hand grenades.

Perhaps you are floating on a ship
Or flying a jet fighter through the sky
Flying a chopper, or riding a tank
Or watching your buddies die.

With an open heart full of appreciation,
We send our love and gratitude to you
Thank you for keeping watch over us
Thank you for all that you do.

Our hearts are filled with nothing but pride
As our precious flag is unfurled
Because of you maybe someday
We will know peace around the world.

Thank You To Each And Every One Of You
Serving In The Armed Forces
Protecting Freedom And Our Country
And Fighting For World Peace…

May God Bless You and God Bless America
Author......Jeannie Nourse

For all military people from around the
world that join with us in the fight for freedom
we salute you and include you in our prayers!

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We pray today that from the ashes will rise a new spirit of beauty
and unity in America.
Already, all across this nation our hearts have been knit together
into a new tapestry of one America.
Because of this tragedy, we have been bound together by a
silver chord of hope and brotherhood and sisterhood.
What was meant to drive us apart has really drawn us together.
May we always remember.
And so today we ask, God, that You would wipe the tears of
all in need of comfort.
That You would warm the heart of one who would grow cold
from bitterness. That You would lift the head of that one who
is bowed down in sadness.
That You would touch the discouraged and remind them
that love will always conquer hate.
We thank You, God, for making us such a resilient people.
We know that we are.
And we pray now for the strength to rise again,
to build again, and to live free from fear.
We pray that You will help us rebuild our broken lives and
mend our broken hearts.
We pray that You will give us the courage to face evil and
the faith to believe that good will never be defeated.

Hold us close to Your heart.
And through our tears, and through our sorrow,
may we all see a new vision of a new tomorrow.

Bless us all and God bless America.
Gale Beyer......Pine Grove, California.

Watched Them Go

I watched with sorrow, I watched with woe
I bit my tongue as I watched them go.
Yesterday they answered the role of various occupations
Now they're on a list to join with other nations.

There they are, there am I anxieties build and mount
Fearing to let go making every second count.
I am here to wish them well, I know nary a one
Yet I know all of them mother, father, daughter, son.

It wasn't long ago with tears in our eyes
We stood on these docks with remorseful sighs.
I held my husband's hand, I gazed into his heart
I felt our wedding vows until death do us part.

I pray the sorrows of tomorrow may never surpass
The pains of the present and their burdens of the past.
And from the ship that call the call to assemble
I know it all too well as tender hearts tremble.

Every depth of sorrow lingers with each disband
Even the smallest infant senses a trembling hand.
Like leaves in deepest Autumn which reluctantly let go
To join their scattered brethren on the grass and streets below.

No one moves as the vessel sails on that sea of reality
Carrying that precious cargo into a storm of finality.
Where is history taking them? Who among them will return?
What will we have garnered? What will we have learned?

Those questions reverberate from one generation to another
I lost my dearest husband and I will love no other.
We, they, you, bear a sacrifice in our own patriotic way.
Yet saying good bye, perhaps forever are the saddest words we'll say.

I watched with sorrow, I watched with woe
I bit my lip as I watched them go.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row.
That mark our place; and in the sky.
The larks still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow.
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
in Flanders fields.

Written by John McCrae
copied with permission from S&S *SWO*

"....from these honored dead, we take increased devotion to that
cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion -
that we here highly resolve these dead shall not have died in vain...."

Abraham Lincoln....Gettysburg Address

The Lord's loved ones are precious to Him;
It grieves Him when they die.
What kind of a Father would not grieve when his child dies?
We are His representatives to a lost world,
So why wouldn't He grieve when one of us dies.
His ambassador's ministry has ended.
This rendering testifies to the tender and
Compassionate heart of God.
If He loves and cares for us in life,
Why wouldn't He grieve for us in death?

1 Peter 5:7 (nlt) says,

Give all your worries and cares to God,
For He cares about what happens to you.
Because we are precious to Him,
He gladly receives us into Heaven upon death,
But He surely grieves like a loving Father when we die.
It's reassuring to me to know that when I'm gone,
God will be there to mourn with my friends and family.

************************

Do It Again Lord

Dear Lord,

We're still hoping we'll wake up.
We're still hoping we'll open a sleepy eye and think,
What a horrible dream.

But we won't, will we, Father?
What we saw was not a dream.
Planes did gouge towers.
Flames did consume our fortress.
People did perish.
It was no dream and, dear Father, we are sad.

There is a ballet dancer who will no longer dance
and a doctor who will no longer heal.
A church has lost her priest, a classroom is minus a teacher.
Cora ran a food pantry. Paige was a counselor and Dana,
dearest Father, Dana was only three years old.
(Who held her in those final moments?)

We are sad, Father. For as the innocent are buried,
our innocence is buried as well. We thought we were safe.
Perhaps we should have known better. But we didn't.

And so we come to you. We don't ask you for help;
we beg you for it. We don't request it; we implore it.
We know what you can do. We've read the accounts.
We've pondered the stories and now we plead,
Do it again, Lord. Do it again.

Remember Joseph? You rescued him from the pit.
You can do the same for us.
Do it again, Lord.

Remember the Hebrews in Egypt?
You protected their children from the angel of death.
We have children, too, Lord.
Do it again.

And Sarah? Remember her prayers? You heard them.
Joshua? Remember his fears? You inspired him.
The women at the tomb? You resurrected their hope.
The doubts of Thomas? You took them away.
Do it again, Lord. Do it again.

You changed Daniel from a captive into a king's counselor.
You took Peter the fisherman and made him Peter an apostle.
Because of you, David went from leading sheep to leading armies.
Do it again, Lord, for we need counselors today, Lord.
We need apostles. We need leaders.
Do it again, dear Lord.

Most of all, do again what you did at Calvary.
What we saw here on that Tuesday,
you saw there on that Friday.
Innocence slaughtered. Goodness murdered.
Mothers weeping. Evil dancing.
Just as the ash fell on our children,
the darkness fell on your Son.
Just as our towers were shattered,
the very Tower of Eternity was pierced.

And by dusk, heaven's sweetest song was silent,
buried behind a rock.

But you did not waver, O Lord.
You did not waver. After three days in a dark hole,
you rolled the rock and rumbled the earth and
turned the darkest Friday into the brightest Sunday.
Do it again, Lord. Grant us a September Easter.

We thank you, dear Father, for these hours of unity.
Disaster has done what discussion could not.
Doctrinal fences have fallen.
Republicans are standing with Democrats.
Skin colors have been covered by the
ash of burning buildings.
We thank you for these hours of unity.

And we thank you for these hours of prayer.
The Enemy sought to bring us to our knees and succeeded.
He had no idea, however, that we would kneel before you.
And he has no idea what you can do.

Let your mercy be upon our President,
Vice President, and their families.
Grant to those who lead us wisdom beyond
their years and experience.
Have mercy upon the souls who have departed
and the wounded who remain.
Give us grace that we might forgive and
faith that we might believe.

And look kindly upon your church.
For two thousand years you've used
her to heal a hurting world.

Do it again, Lord. Do it again.

Through Christ, Amen.

As written by Max Lucado for America Prays, a national
prayer vigil held Saturday, September 14, 2001.
Permission to copy not only granted but encouraged.

They soar in jets above the land, They sail beyond the seas.
They march across the desert, They crawl between the trees.

No matter what the role they play Each chooses to protect
The lives of all Americans. For this we owe a debt.

Today, and every single day 'Til each returns safe and sound,
Please say a little prayer with me For the troops: air, sea, and ground.

God Please... Grant them courage, When times seem bleak.
Grant them strength, When they feel weak.
Grant them comfort, When they feel all alone,
And most of all, God, Please bring them all home.

Pass This Along To All Your Friends.
Our Troops Need Our Prayers

Where was God in all of this?

As I, like most other Americans and people world-wide, was watching and listening to the horror that took place on the East Coast, I heard many people ask the question posed in the subject line. I was reminded of an interview with a Holocaust survivor that was asked the same question. Her response inspired the following words.
Where was God in all of this?
God was in the rescue workers who were running into the buildings as most people were running out.
God was in the flight attendant who called her husband as her plane was being hijacked to tell him that she loved him.
God was in the two men who carried a wheelchair-bound woman down 70 flights of stairs to safety.
God was in the people who stood bleeding, in line to give blood.
God was in the strangers in cars, picking up strangers stranded in the city and taking them home to their families.
God is in the people who are begging to volunteer, to do anything to help.
God is in the thousands, if not millions who are flooding blood banks thousands of miles away to help people they have never met.
God is in the people who are comforting someone even when they don't know what to say.
God is in the people who watched and cried for people who may remain anonymous in name, but never in their sacrifice.
God is in my neighborhood where I see flags waving from every home.
God is in the men and women, looking at 110 stories of rubble, and seeing only the opportunity to find survivors.
God is with the heroes, most of whom will never be on the news, whose stories will only be told to their closest friends and family; but who saved someone's mother, father, sister, brother, daughter, son, husband, wife, grandmother, grandfather, aunt, uncle, cousin, lover, colleague, acquaintance, teacher, mentor or friend with a single act of kindness, compassion and bravery.
God was not in the hearts of the people that caused these inhumane events. However, God was indeed there, where God was needed the most.

Friendly Fire

I have been thinking about him all month, and the thoughts get heavier,
as Memorial Day draws closer. I don't remember his name,
but I remember his face -- pale, thin --and a body, splotched with a
cancer that old men get.
But he was just nineteen. He was a good looking boy, who should have
had a bright future before him. But he was dying.
He had AIDS.
I was a Department of Defense "sand crab." One of those faceless, civilian
people, who work for Uncle Sam at military bases. It was my job to discharge sailors whose discharges were "other than honorable."
I thought about "honor" a lot, that day, as I interviewed that
young boy and typed his paperwork.
He kept looking at my daughter's picture. She was about his age.
"She's so pretty," he said, wistfully.
I felt uncomfortable. I moved her picture,
and I proceeded to do the job I hated.
I placed the paperwork on my desk and gave him a pen to sign
his name, asking all the meaningless questions I'd asked before,
explaining his "rights".
He nodded, sadly. In my heart, there was a rage going on.
This boy was being sent home, with an Other Than Honorable Discharge,
and it wasn't fair!
It was an abomination, and all of us who worked with him knew it!
Worst of all, there wasn't a thing we could do about it!
He had been in surgery at a Navy Hospital, and he had needed a blood
transfusion. He was given infected blood -- blood that gave him AIDS.
When he found out, he went berserk! In a panic, he also went UA, otherwise
known as "Unauthorized Absence." The Navy proceeded to catch him, charge him, prosecute him, and discharge him -- through me.
So, there I sat with a young boy who was dying, because he was infected in
a Navy Hospital with a disease that, at the time, NO ONE had survived!
He didn't yell at me, or call me names, or threaten to have his mother
sue the Navy. He just sat there, sweet and hopeless. And I was
helpless to do anything, except process him out of the Navy.

Yes, he had committed a crime. Desertion is a crime, according to the
Uniform Code of Military Justice. He should have been a man! He should
have stood his ground! He should have stayed the course! I knew all the arguments. Instead he ran, and ran, and ran, and ran, trying to
escape the disease he had caught in a Navy Hospital.
I completed his paperwork, my heart crying out to God, for some clue that
could help his mother get some recompense for the healthy, hopeful child
she had entrusted to the Navy -- and for the shadow of a child who was going home. The records were silent.
Anything that could hold the Navy responsible was no longer in
existence. Everything in front of me condemned him, on new, crisp,
white papers. As he continued to sign his name and date every paper,
somehow my fingers got in the way.
One of those new, crisp, white papers sliced the tip of my finger and,
being a bleeder, I bled all over my desk, and him.
Then he did something extraordinary.
He grabbed some tissues and he began to blot the blood from my hand --
our hands touching, for the first time -- my hand pouring blood onto his diseased hands. Suddenly, we both realized that our hands had touched.
That my blood had washed over his lesions, and his lesions had come in
contact with the cut on my hand.
Our eyes met for an eternity. Then he jerked his hand away.
We never spoke of it. We left the papers as they were, blood spattered, along with his single, bloody fingerprint. Then I sent him home, knowing that he'd never see another birthday.
As we approach Memorial Day -- a day when we remember veterans of the
past -- I think of a mother placing flowers upon the grave of a boy, who
had died in a losing battle, for his country.

Jaye Lewis

http://www.heartwarmers4u.com/gems.html

An American Boy Grows Up

Our son was born so long ago
Yet it seems like yesterday
That I stood in awe before his crib
And heard that doctor say,
"You've quite a boy there Mr. Jones"
I could only answer with a nod
For in his very being there
I saw the miracle of God

Later in his high chair in a manner I deplore
I saw that Miracle of God throw his oatmeal on the floor
Well, I fixed him something different
For I felt he must be fed
But when I turned around again
That bowl was on his head

A few more years rolled along
And he didn't spill things anymore
But his granddad
Sent a big bass drum
and once more I deplored
The fact that my Miracle of God
Had a lusty taste for noise
When he'd boom! boom! boom!
On that big bass drum
I questioned boys must be boys?

I asked his whereabouts one day
His Mom said "He's got a paper route,"
"Said he'd help to earn his way
As he became an eagle scout"
When they pinned that medal on him
Tears welled in my eyes,
And then I gripped his mother's hand
Our boy had earned his prize

I won't forget that September day
When he entered senior high
He had an air of great excitement
But he left home with a sigh
He came back that afternoon
And gave us some puzzled looks
"Wow!", he said,
"This school is tough look at all these books?"

"The choice is yours," his mother said,
"You can pick the easy way."
"What you put into life, you'll get out of it
Each man pays his price one day"
He looked up and then he smiled,
And I saw he'd lost his gloom
He said, "I'd better look at these,"
He headed for his room

My son came home late one day
He seemed all worn out
I asked a little sharply what this was all about
He spoke proudly and threw his shoulders back
And in his eyes I caught a gleam
"I wanted to surprise you Dad
I'm on the football team"

They won most of their games
Lost a few
It was a thrill to watch him play
And when they didn't win we knew
He'd met the challenge anyway
He didn't know it at the time
But it was a stepping stone
Solid footing for the climb
To face life on his own

How those three years flew past
When graduation came,
We saw our boy grown up at last
Our lives will never be the same

I guess we've known all along
What his goal would be
From that time three years ago
When he chose responsibility

He stood in the doorway yesterday
Put out a strong right hand
I held back tears at the uniform he wore
To protect his land
I shook his hand
His mother cried
"Son, why couldn't you wait?"
Embracing her
He softly said
"Mom if we all did it would be too late"

"I promise I'll go back to school
When I've met my obligation
To you, my friends, my girl, my school
And most of all this nation"
"I'll do all I can out there
For I know you'll both be trying,
To make everyone you know aware
We've got to keep Old Glory flying"

And then his mother straightened up
With a smile to hide a tear
She said
"We're both so proud of you
We'll feel lost without you here"
Someday,
You'll know what this moment means
When your boy shakes your hand
And you watch him as he walks away
The day he becomes a man"

Old Glory in Heaven"

Lord, in this land that was founded
on Your Righteous and Holy name,
We all understand the gruesome reality,
when playing war's deadly games.

But I have one request Lord,
Please, just hear me until I'm through;
We know Lord from the past
that death in war is true.

So for the Sailor that meets his fate,
can You give him a special place,
For it's the salted air of the seas he needs,
to feel upon his face.

Can You place them on a heavenly ship,
so they can once again feel the rolling of the waves,
A special place so they'll know,
we appreciate all they gave.

And Lord, for that pilot who failed to return,
from his last mission in war's quest,
Please give him angel's unfailing wings,
we know Lord, Yours are best.

He has the need to see the view
always from way up high,
But most of all Lord, let him know,
his memory will never die.

The Soldiers, Lord, that find the gate,
please give them what they need;
A moments rest, and a quiet thought,
and an angel to mend what bleeds.

They have the instinct to always defend-
so a field to watch over,
A running stream of milk and honey,
and a patch of soft warm clover.

Now Lord, about those Marines,
I know they're quite rowdy and rough,
But that's just because they are considered
to be so doggone tough.

Just throw them in among the rest
and watch how high they fly,
And listen for their basic yell,
it will be something like "Semper Fi".

Lord, I have but one final request;
it's Old Glory they must all see,
So they'll know they won the battle
in this war to keep us free.

Lord, each morning as those Colors rise,
they'll salute her with pride,
Remind them, Lord, everyday,
that it was with honor that they died.

The Complete Prayer For Protection

The Light of God surrounds me.
The Love of God enfolds me.
The Power of God protects me.
The Presence of God watches over me.
The Mind of God guides me.
The Life of God flows through me.
The Laws of God direct me.
The Power of God abides within me.
The Joy of God uplifts me.
The Strength of God renews me.
The Beauty of God inspires me.

Wherever I am, God is!

This beloved prayer was written by
James Dilate Freeman.......for all soldiers during WW II

Small Pain In My Chest

The soldier boy was sitting calmly underneath that tree.
As I approached it, I could see him beckoning to me.
The battle had been long and hard and lasted through the night
And scores of figures on the ground lay still by morning's light.

"I wonder if you'd help me, sir," he smiled as best he could.
"A sip of water on this morn would surely do me good.
We fought all day and fought all night with scarcely any rest -
A sip of water for I have a small pain in my chest."

As I looked at him, I could see the large stain on his shirt
All reddish-brown from his warm blood mixed in with Asian dirt.
"Not much," said he. "I count myself more lucky than the rest.
They're all gone while I just have a small pain in my chest."

"Must be fatigue," he weakly smiled. "I must be getting old.
I see the sun is shining bright and yet I'm feeling cold.
We climbed the hill, two hundred strong, but as we cleared the crest,
The night exploded and I felt this small pain in my chest."

"I looked around to get some aid - the only things I found
Were big, deep craters in the earth - bodies on the ground.
I kept on firing at them, sir. I tried to do my best,
But finally sat down with this small pain in my chest."

"I'm grateful, sir," he whispered, as I handed my canteen
And smiled a smile that was, I think, the brightest that I've seen.
"Seems silly that a man my size so full of vim and zest,
Could find himself defeated by a small pain in his chest."

"What would my wife be thinking of her man so strong and grown,
If she could see me sitting here, too weak to stand alone?
Could my mother have imagined, as she held me to her breast,
That I'd be sitting HERE one day with this pain in my chest?"

"Can it be getting dark so soon?" He winced up at the sun.
"It's growing dim and I thought that the day had just begun.
I think, before I travel on, I'll get a little rest ..........
And, quietly, the boy died from that small pain in his chest.

I don't recall what happened then. I think I must have cried;
I put my arms around him and I pulled him to my side
And, as I held him to me, I could feel our wounds were pressed
The large one in my heart against the small one in his chest.

"The Soldier"

In 1949, my father had just returned home from the war.
On every American highway you could see soldiers in
uniform hitchhiking home to their families, as was the
custom at that time in America. Sadly, the thrill of his
reunion with his family was soon overshadowed. My
grandmother became very ill and had to be hospitalized.
It was her kidneys, and the doctors told my father that
she needed a blood transfusion immediately, or she
would not live through the night.

The problem was that Grandmother's blood type was
AB negative, a very rare type even today, but even harder
to get then because there were no blood banks or air
flights to ship blood. All the family members were "typed,"
but not one member was a match. So the doctors gave
the family no hope; my grandmother was dying.

My father left the hospital in tears to gather up all the family
members, so that everyone would get a chance to tell
Grandmother good-bye. As my father was driving down
the highway, he passed a soldier in uniform hitchhiking
home to his family. Deep in grief, my father had no inclination
at that moment to do a good deed. Yet it was almost as if
something outside himself pulled him to a stop, and he
waited as the stranger climbed into the car. My father was
too upset to even ask the soldier his name, but the soldier
noticed my father's tears right away and inquired about them.
Through his tears, my father told this total stranger that his
mother was lying in a hospital dying because the doctors
had been unable to locate her blood type, AB negative, and
if they did not locate her blood type before nightfall, she
would surely die. It got very quiet in the car. Then this
unidentified soldier extended his hand out to my father,
palm up. Resting in the palm of his hand were the dog
tags from around his neck. The blood type on the tags
was AB negative. The soldier told my father to turn the
car around and get him to the hospital.

My grandmother lived until 1996, 47 years later, and to this
day no one in our family knows the soldier's name. But my
father has often wondered, was he a soldier or an angel in
uniform? Sometimes, we never know who God will bring
into our lives to carry out a special mission nor do we
know whose lives God will have us touch.

A Name Upon the Wall

I saw her from a distance as she walked up to the wall,
She laid a wreath of flowers, then her tears began to fall;
She took out pen and paper, as to trace her memories,
She looked up to the heavens, and the words she said were these:

"Lord, my boy was special, and he meant so much to me,
And though I'd love to have him, just one more time to see;
All I have are memories, and monuments recall,
So Lord, let me know he's not just a name upon a wall."

"He's really missed by family, being home on Christmas day,
He died for God and Country, in a place so far away;
I remember just a little boy, playing war when he was three,
But this time it's for real. He wont be coming home to me."

"You know my boy was special, and he meant so much to me,
And though I'd love to have him here, I know that this can't be;
So thank you for the memories, and the moments I recall,
And please just tell him he is more than a name upon a wall."

I am a small and precious child, my dad's been sent to fight...
The only place I'll see his face, is in my dreams at night.
He will be gone too many days
For my young mind to keep track.
I may be sad, but I am proud. My daddy's got your back.

I am a caring mother. My son has gone to war...
My mind is filled with worries that I have never known before.
Everyday I try to keep my thoughts from turning black.
I may be scared, but I am proud. My son has got your back.

I am a strong and loving wife, with a husband soon to go...
There are times I'm terrified in a way most never know.
I bite my lip, and force a smile as I watch my husband pack...
My heart may break, but I am proud.
My husband's got your back.

I am a soldier...Serving proudly, standing tall.
I fight for freedom, yours and mine, by answering this call.
I do my job while knowing the thanks will sometimes lack.
Say a prayer that I'll come home.
It's me who's got your back.

One for the Team

This story was told by an old priest one Sunday. It is
a true story of when he served in the military.
One day their drill sergeant came out and threw a hand
grenade into a group of young soldiers. The man all ran away
and took cover away from the grenade. Then the drill
sergeant told them that the grenade was not set to explode
and he just did it to see their reaction. The next day a
newly recruited soldier joined the group. The drill sergeant
told the other soldiers not to tell the new soldier what was
going to happen. As the drill sergeant came out and threw
the grenade into the crowd of soldiers, the new soldier, not
knowing it wasn't going to explode, threw himself on top of
the grenade to prevent it from killing the other men. He was
willing to die for his fellow soldiers.
That year the young man was awarded the only medal for
courage and bravery that had not been won during battle.

So Long, Son

There was no band, no flags, no ceremonial.
It wasn't even dramatic.
A car honked outside and he said,
"Well, I guess that's for me."
He picked up his little bag, and his mother said,
"You haven't forgotten your gloves?"
He kissed his mother, and held out his hand to me.
"Well, so long," he said.
I took his hand but all I could say was "Good luck!"

The door slammed and that was that, another boy gone to war.
I had advised waiting for the draft, waiting at least
until he was required to register.
I had pointed out that he was not yet of age.
He had smiled at that,
and assured me that his mind was made up.
He wanted peace, he said.
Without peace, what good was living?

There was finality in the way he said this,
a finality at once grim and gentle.
I said no more about waiting.
After the door closed behind him I went upstairs.
I went to what had been his room.
It was in worse chaos than usual.
His bureau was littered, an incredible
collection of things, letters, keys,
invitations to parties he would not attend.
Clothing was scattered about, dancing pumps, a tennis
racket, his collection of phonograph records,
his trumpet gleaming in its case.

I went then to my room.
On the wall was a picture of a little boy,
his toothless grin framed in tawny curls,
the same boy who had just taken my hand and said,
"Well, so long." Not much time, I thought, between the making
of that picture and the slamming of the front door.
Not much more than a decade.

Suddenly, a strange thing happened.
Objects came alive, whispered to me.
The house was full of soft voices.
They led me up to the attic to a box of toy soldiers,
a broken music rack, a football helmet,
a homemade guitar, schoolbooks, class pictures,
a stamp album, a penny
bank with the lid pried off...
ancient history, long hidden under the dust.

The voices led me on to a filing case and a folder
stuffed with pages and report cards, letters,
among them the wail of an exasperated teacher:
"Though he looks like an angel..."
telegrams, passports, a baptismal certificate,
a ribbon won in a track meet, faded photographs
(one taken on the memorable first day of long pants),
a bit of golden hair.
I sat down and thought how time had flown.
Why, it was only yesterday when I held him in my arms!

That, somehow, made me remember all the scoldings
I had given him, the preachments, the exhortations to virtue
and wisdom I did not myself possess...
I thought, too, of that last inarticulate "good luck,"
that last perfunctory handclasp; and I wished that I had
somehow been able to tell him how much I really loved him.
Had he perhaps penetrated my brusque reserve?

And then I thought, what fools we are with our children,
always plotting what we shall make of them,
always planning for a future
that never comes, always intent on what they may be,
never accepting what they are!

Well, curly head, you're a man now,
bearing your bright new shield and spear.
I hated to see you go out of my house and close the door
behind you, but I think I would not have halted you if I could.
I salute you, sir. I cannot pretend that I am not sad;
but I am proud, too.
So long.

Some months later the son of the author was killed in combat.
By Howard Vincent O'Brien......January 8, 1942

Our Father which art in Heaven,
Hallowed be Thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come.
Thy will be done in earth, as it is in Heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil:

For Thine is the Kingdom,
and the power, and the glory, forever.
Amen.

Index	Ten	Twenty	Thirty
One	Eleven	Twenty-One	Remembering One
Two	Twelve	Twenty-Two	Remembering Two
Three	Thirteen	Twenty-Three	Remembering Three
Four	Fourteen	Twenty-Four	Animals One
Five	Fifteen	Twenty-Five	Animals Two
Six	Sixteen	Twenty-Six	Animals Three
Seven	Seventeen	Twenty-Seven	Heroes
Eight	Eighteen	Twenty-Eight	Holidays
Nine	Nineteen	Twenty-Nine

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	This site is owned and maintained by Bunny