Lord, as the world changes and leaves me with nothing to rely upon, may I constantly come back to you for guidance.
“Since you are my rock and my fortress, for the sake of your name lead and guide me.” (Psalm 31:3)
July 30
CHAOS
Once we got outside, many of us broke into a dead sprint to get to the other side of the Pentagon to see who else we could pull out of the building. We didn’t know the first responders were already there all we knew was that a large number of people were hurt. We could hear them yelling and moaning, but we couldn’t get to them because of the fire. It was chaos. And we didn’t think it was over.
Is the same thing going on at the White House? My mind raced. What other facilities have been attacked? What about my family? If these people are doing this to innocent people on airplanes, they could be setting down nuclear weapons right where my family is.
Nobody could reach anybody. Most of the phone circuits were overloaded, even for cell phones. My oldest daughter saw the news in her high school classroom and thought for sure I was dead. It was two to three hours before I was able to connect with my family.
An hour later, we were told there was another plane inbound Flight 93 that crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. So they had us all scurry away and take cover under the overpass on Interstate 395 for awhile. Every couple minutes, F-16s flew about fifty feet over the Pentagon.
Finally somebody told everyone to go home, watch the news, and be ready to report back to work tomorrow. Nobody could get in and out of the parking lot, so fifteen thousand of us walked on the shoulders of I-395. Many cars coming out of Washington pulled over and offered rides.
The fellow who helped me evacuate our office and I were picked up by two guys. When Dan Rather said something on the radio about “crazy Islamic fundamentalists,” these two guys started yelling at the radio in Arabic, pounding on the dashboard, swearing out the window.
What in the world did we get ourselves into? we thought. We quickly jumped out of the car in the slow- moving traffic and walked to a subway station. Two hours after I had left the Pentagon, I finally made it home.
Lord, when things don’t make sense, help me keep my focus on you.
“When I am afraid, I will trust in you.” (Psalm 56:3)
July 31
WHAT NOW?
“I know what you’ve been through today, Tom, but one of our men has been reported missing.” It was one of the pastors at the church where I served as an elder calling me that evening. “We think he’s gone. Will you come with me? I want you to break the news to the family.”
I knew exactly where this man’s office was. I saw that wreckage, and there’s no way he would have made it. We checked all the hospitals to be sure, but I wasn’t surprised to learn he wasn’t at any of them.
Sharing the news with his wife, fifteen-year-old daughter, and eleven-year-old son was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. I still see the daughter’s eyes periodically when I wake up at night. Who’s going to walk me down the aisle? they seemed to say. Who’s going to interview my prom date?
Completely exhausted emotionally and physically, I returned home that night around 10 p.m. When my oldest son Ryan, a junior in high school, saw me, he jumped up out of his seat, and threw his arms around me.
“Dad, I’m so thankful that God spared your life today,” he said.
After a few minutes, he dropped his arms, stepped back, and looked at me. “Dad, I gotta ask you a question. For some reason God spared your life today at the Pentagon. What are you going to do now with the rest of your life?” He repeated the question, said “I love you Dad,” went upstairs and went to bed.
It was the most penetrating question anyone’s ever asked me. It was just like God said to Ryan, “Challenge your dad and go to bed.” It was that clear.
September 11, 2001, was a wake-up call for me. I had already been considering going into ministry after retirement, and on that day, I felt like God was saying, I want you to make a decision. I spared your life. I want you to do something a little more valuable with it.
Two weeks after my Navy retirement ceremony in 2003, I was sitting at a desk at Immanuel Bible Church as the new Pastor of Discipleship and Family.
Lord, help me fulfill your purpose for me in a way that honors you.
“I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.” (Ephesians 4:1)
August 1
FILLING UP
March 19, 2003, Iraqi Border. It was the first day of the invasion, and Navy SEAL Commander Mark Waddell was outfitted in his chemical suit and armed with chemical/biological/nuclear gear in anticipation of a possible chemical attack.
“You know,” he told another officer who was with him, “today is also my birthday…” The conversation stopped cold when the night sky lit up from a Marine Corps CH-46 helicopter exploding. The helicopter was carrying some British troops into combat, and they were all killed instantly.
“And that’s the way I started my birthday that year with the rocket that the Iraqis were shooting at us,” remembered Waddell. “They sounded like big jets flying over our heads, and chemical alarms were sounding, and it was very confusing in the fog of combat as we were attacking them.”
This was not the first time the twenty-year combat veteran had witnessed a violent end to human life, but it would prove to be the start of a year that would overwhelm him. “My life was full of seeing human tragedy,” he explained. “So in 2003 there was more human tragedy, there were more people killed, there were more uncertainties, there were more paradox situations that I had to deal with, and very intense emotional trauma. I was just full.”
Waddell and his wife, Marshele Carter Waddell, compare the experience to a scene in the film Titanic where a handful of men are arguing about whether the ship would sustain the blow or sink. “And then the engineer steps forwards and says, ‘If only three or four compartments had been affected, we would be okay. But it has spilled over into a fifth compartment, and she will sink.’ And that jumped out at me; that was my husband. Too many compartments had been affected and filled up, and therefore the weight was going to pull him down,” said Marshele.
