It seems as if everyone remembers where they were on that Tuesday morning 10 years ago. As we come to this 10 year anniversary of a day that has shaped our nation's history, it is difficult to not want to tell our part of the story. Sure, there are many of us who had no direct connection to New York, Washington D.C, Pennsylvania or any of the people who died on that day. For many of us the closest we come to firefighters and police-officers is simply our day to day interactions by seeing them on the road, or at an elementary school.
While many of us did not have a direct connection to the tragedy of that day, we all shared in the grief and the terror that overcame our country. How could it be that someone, or a group of people could attack our nation? We see wars and bombings in other parts of the world, but how could this be happening here? Even though I don't know many firefighters or police officers directly, and even though I was no where near New York, I still feel the connection to that city and what happened, the way many of us do.
It may sometimes feel as if our connection to the Spirit is the same. Sometimes our hearts are troubled and it feels as if we have no direct connection to God. It becomes hard to see God in the "everyday" and we become overwhelmed by the distance that seems to grow in our relationship with the Divine.
However, much like our experience with September 11, whenever we tell OUR story, we allow ourselves to become connected, again. The memories of September 11 come flooding back to me when I tell my story of where I was and what I was doing. In that same manner, our relationship is renewed and our Spirit restored when we re-tell OUR story of how we know God. When we tell our story of how God is working in OUR life, we give ourselves the chance to become even more connected to the Divine, each and every time we tell our story.
It may seem a stretch, or even a difficult connection, but I find it to be true. How often have we told stories about loved ones, or beloved memories of our past and those memories and people become alive again as we tell the story? Every time I tell the story of my grandfather and his infernal fight with the squirrels that eat his bird-feed, I can see him out there rigging up a new contraption to keep the squirrels out and the birds coming back. His spirit of hope, that the birds WILL come to his yard continues to live on and I am renewed by the memory of persistence and fun that my grandfather had in this endeavor. All it takes is for me to TELL the story.
Why don't we TELL our stories of the Divine more often? Are we afraid? Are we afraid of not being politically correct, or that our own story will be challenged? Are we unsure, as if someone could contradict our own experience with God? Are we unsure of our own experience, wondering if that miracle really was a miracle, or just a connection of perfect circumstances?
TELL YOUR STORY. Tell your story of 9/11. Tell your story of your grandfather, of your mother, of your child's 5th birthday party. Tell YOUR story and all it all to become alive in YOU.