There is nothing to say that can help the events of this past week make any sense at all. It doesn't even make sense to me that I feel the way I do. I don't know any of the people who worked in or near the World Trade Center or the Pentagon. I don't know anyone who has lost a loved one in either of those horrors. I've never been a flag-waving patriot who tears up at the sight of "Old Glory". So why this deep abiding sadness that I can't describe?

It is a strange commentary on our life and times that I when I first heard about the destruction, I hardly paid any attention at all. So someone had bombed the World Trade Center - again, I thought. I was sure it wasn't going to amount to anything. But half an hour later as I began to comprehend the full extent of the damage, my whole world changed. As I looked around me, the cars passing on the street seemed to be moving in slow motion as if drivers were riveted to their radios in disbelief and trying without success to wrap their minds around what they heard. As I walked into my office and looked at my co-workers, I couldn't think of a word to say. We just looked at each other but I quickly broke the stare and lowered my eyes. I couldn't look at anyone and let them see the death in my eyes --- not the death of the people who had been so brutally vanquished from this earth, but the death of my spirit and (dare I say it) my soul. Until that moment I had not even realized my body had acquired a new tenant. I remember sensing something descending upon me as if it had entered my head through my ears and my eyes and had traversed through my body until it reached the pit of my stomach ---the center of my being --- and just languished there.

And now, for days, that death spirit has resided with me. I believe I almost seem normal to those on the outside; but on the inside something has drastically changed. It still taxes me to look someone in the eye; and when I do, I find myself wondering if we share the same dead spirit pretending to be alive and well. I keep listening to those who say we are strong and we will not be defeated and I believe that … but not for today. For today, I feel defeated, as if a thief has come in the night and stolen all my stuff. I know that I will soon begin to claim victory and reclaim life … but not today. For today I am Rachel … weeping for her children … and she would not be comforted. God bless and keep us all.

For comments or inquiries you can send email to Kara Lynn