Page 247 - Creating Spiritual and Psychological Resilience

216 Creating Spiritual and Psychological Resilence

I felt set-up and put down at the same time by this experience. A week
before 9/11, a car involved in an accident jumped the curb and tore down
a long section of my fence (I live on a corner). Up to 9/11, my consuming
thought was “look how bad my fence looked” and “when would the insur-
ance company honor their word and pay up.” If this was not enough, my
wife started to experience several concurrent serious medical challenges
that drained already waning strength and resolve in me. I thought I was
about to lose my mind, not to mention my tenuous hold on faith.

… But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has?
But if we hope for what we do not have, we wait for it patiently … And we know
that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been
called according to his purpose. (Romans 8: 24c-25, 28 NIV)

Face on the Lamppost

I recall leaving my job late one evening (I work less than a mile from what
is now called Ground Zero) shortly after the tragedy. The acrid smell of
smoke and death would cover parts of lower Manhattan (and the city)
anytime the wind decided to change direction. While covering my mouth
and squinting my eyes, I saw a woman putting up a poster on a nearby
lamppost. I figured she was posting a picture of a missing loved one that
now hang all over the city. I made it a practice to look at the faces captured
in happier times of those who were missing. It was my way of sharing the
pain of families, coworkers, and friends and also allowing me to pray for
those brothers, sisters, husbands and wives, sons and daughters.
When I looked at the picture in the woman’s hand, I was astonished to
see that she was taping an 8 1/2 × 11 color picture of Jesus ostensibly pray-
ing in Gethsemane. After talking for a while, I found out that this mystery
lady lived in rural Pennsylvania. She told me that she sold most of her pos-
sessions to raise enough money to have reams of her favorite childhood
picture of Jesus replicated and for her room and board. She said that her
family was dead set against her coming to New York by herself for all the
obvious reasons. She told me that she had to come because she felt led by
the Lord. We both started to cry … for everything.
I held her hand and prayed for all of the faces of the missing on lamp-
posts here and around the city. I prayed for her safety, for her family, and
I prayed for myself. It was only after she walked away that I thought about
the significance of what occurred. Here were two strangers, one Black (me)