This post, by David Nicodemus, comes from the blog of Grace Polaris, a Grace Brethren church on the north side of Columbus, Ohio (Mike Yoder, lead pastor). David is the communications and creative arts pastor at the church.
Our world has changed so much since the morning of Tuesday, September 11, 2001. The changes in our lives are dramatic but have become such a part of who we are that it’s easy to forget what life was like on September 10.
For some of you, everything changed on that day. Your world was turned upside down as you lost a father, mother, husband, wife, daughter, or son. With you, we grieve. With you, we effort to lift you up in prayer. With you, we remember, because by remembering we give honor to you and to your family.
For many of us, our world has been turned upside down in far less heart-wrenching and painful ways, but we’re forever marked because we watched the news unfold and experienced the fears of that day.
For countless others, this is the only world they know. There is no memory of planes flying into buildings. There is no memory of the eerily empty sky in the following days. There is no memory of carefree travel and endless optimism.
I remember sitting at breakfast in my college cafeteria with some coworkers on the morning of September 11, 2001, when students began to huddle around the television. We broke our meeting momentarily to see what was happening but only lingered briefly, returning to our table shaking our heads at the unfortunate pilot that accidentally flew into the World Trade Center.
An accident? How naïve. How innocent. How optimistic.
In the years since this terrorist attack on American soil, pessimism has invaded, innocence has been replaced by skepticism and fear, and naïveté is a distant memory. There’s now a war that rages on, battle lines that are being drawn, and a distrust that wins on most days. Innocent lives seem to be taken on a daily basis—not by terrorists in a distant land, but from right within our own backyards. An accident is often our last thought while a calculated, cold-blooded scheme is our first notion. We are too often correct.
Over the last 14 years, optimistic hope has faded. We’ve been conditioned to feel hopeless, to feel helpless, and to hide. But there is a hope that is still eternal, and while hope on this earth is ever fading, our hope for eternity continues to grow. The depths from which we need rescued seems deeper and deeper each day, and our need for a Savior shines in that darkness like never before. We long for a home that is not of the world.
Home often feels so distant. Home has rarely felt so enticing.
But we are here.
For those of you who know real hope and long for your eternal home, begin pouring your life into those things that outlast it, because this temporary home changes so rapidly and is quickly forgotten. The impact of earthly events fade as generations come and go, but investing in the lives of people will last for eternity.
For those who hope in this world or for those who look for hope “within,” there is a hope that is real. There is a hope that will never fade. Hope has a name—Jesus—and He wins the war. Only through a relationship with Jesus, the Son of God, can you face tomorrow. Because of Jesus you can have an eternal hope that is certain as you face an earthly future that is so uncertain.