On September 11, 2001, I was in my band class playing my cornet when the first plane hit the World Trade Center. I was thirteen years old and just starting the eighth grade. When the bell rang and we moved to our next class, we learned what was going on. Apparently it was the art class that first found out—they listen to the radio in class. I came to my literature class and sat down with my classmates to watch the news. At that point the second tower had already been hit. For the rest of the school day I sat mesmerized by the images and voices on the TV. While other students talked and laughed in the back of the class, a few of us realized that we were watching history.
Now, ten years later, so much has faded into memory. I am among the youngest who still remember that day. A kid on television talked about how his father, a police officer, had died on that day. He was born less than thirty days later. My daughter, who could be born any time, will be over ten years removed from the events of that day. Whereas previous generations asked “Do you remember where you were when you heard Pearl Harbor was attacked?” or “Do you remember where you were when JFK was killed?” the question “Do you remember where you were when the Trade Center Towers fell?” is my generation’s question.
It seemed a lot of people wanted to know where God was when the Trade Center Towers fell. God was not absent. God was there. As a matter of fact, all of history, including the events of September 11, 2001, are unfolding according to God's plan from before the beginning of time. Though we do not understand why, God hasn't called us to know that answer, and He hasn't chosen to reveal it to us. Instead of asking where God was, we need to ask ourselves if we are going to trust Him knowing that He was there the whole time.