I remember sitting in silence watching…
I watched the newscasters pause in silence as they realized that the first tower fell…
…and then the second one fell -- and their hands went to their mouths… in silence…
I watched the silent ash falling in New York…
I listened to the silence in my own sky…
But I didn't quite understand at the time how silence feels…
I had the incredible privilege of going to New York in 2013. As we started to walk from the ferry dock to the 9/11 memorial I could feel the silence start…
The buildings are tall -- mostly old and ornate -- and how they block the sound is different than my wide open spaces of the West. It's muted and silent…
The closer we got, the more silence I could feel -- it feels different there, at the place the towers stood -- there is a reverence and a respect that is surrounded in silence.
I wanted to whisper -- I wanted to whisper my thanks to God that I could feel the silence -- that I could feel how the world had been changed in that very spot.
As you walk through the gates of the Memorial and you start to read and listen and look… at the silence… the hole in the middle of this forest of history…
…if a tree falls… -- does it make a sound?
There -- in that silence -- as my hands touched and read the names of those silenced --- I hoped my silent prayer of thanks was enough.
