I can’t begin to tell you how badly I wanted to wake my kids up, fill them with bacon and eggs, and push them out the door to school this morning. No, not because they’re driving me bonkers, but because I want everything to be like it was last week.

This is mourning. This is what it’s like to accept that something is gone.

“It’s not gone – it’s just a few weeks or maybe months, right?”

No, it’s gone. It won’t be the same. Just like after 9/11. Instead of a Tuesday morning of terror in NYC, it’s a slow crawl of terror across the entire globe. It’s like watching the towers slowly collapse, one floor at a time, leaving us to ponder the loss of a floor just as another floor falls.

Of course things won’t be the same. They can’t be. And that’s about all we know for now.

Another floor slowly collapsed just now — the USA/Canada border just shut down. Slowly, slowly, the towers fall. Pieces of paper and clouds of dust crawl between existing buildings.

Those moments when we watched it on TV in 2001… it took us a few minutes to grasp what’s going on. Scaled for today, those minutes are days…

So much has changed but one remains the same: the Lordship of Jesus Christ. He’s our constant right now. We change, things change, He doesn’t.

He’s not gone. He is here. And He loves us through all this. Find it; it’s there. He’s here.

About radamdavidson

When I'm not blogging, I'm hanging out with my family, pastoring a church, or listening to vinyl. I think and write about Jesus, music, communication, organizational leadership, family whatnot, and cultural artifacts from the 1980's -- mostly vintage boomboxes. You can read my blog at, watch [RadCast], a daily 3 minute video devotional, or find me on socials (@radamdavidson). I also help Pastors in their preaching and public speaking (
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