Reflections On Things That Do Not Exist

Refelctions ofThirteen (13) has ever been an ill number, and I feel sick in the pit of my stomach, in the depths of my soul, on this the 13th anniversary of the 2001, 9/11 terror attacks. Those Satanic attacks wreaked havoc on The World Trade Center, The Pentagon, the US economy and most importantly took the lives of more than 3,000 of our fellow citizens and foreign workers, and terrorized the larger numbers of their extended families. The martyred US citizens and foreign workers, came from every walk of life, truly representing the multicultural “melting pot” that is the United States of America. 9/11/01 changed everything and ushered us into a truly apocalyptic era; we are no longer post-modern or even post-ironic, we are post-everything…and we do post everything. We post it here, on the web. Here then is my post, in memoriam.

On 9/11/01, I arrived at my relatively new desk at WebEx, Sacramento, (now Cisco Systems) at 6 AM PST, to begin remotely calling on my sales territory…to begin calling on The World Trade Center. I was specifically chosen for a tough, New York sales slot, because I was, and am, a “big mouth”. I was brash and brazen in the interview process with my superiors at WebEx, and they correctly pegged me to sell web conferencing to similarly, loud, no-bullshit New Yorkers. I was honored! I was finally selling at a level that merited my first six-figure salary! My superiors were proven correct, as I maintained a 102% of quota figure for the year leading up to the attacks. That ill morning, as I stirred my coffee and muddled around, while firing up my 2nd PC, a co-worker, with another “early” and East Coast territory, emailed me something like this: “Hey Jenkins, a good reason to call into your territory?…attached was the earliest AP news report, indicating that “It appeared that a small plane has crashed into the side of the North Tower of The World Trade Center” The time stamp on the story indicated 9:04 AM EST, but we would later learn the first plane hit at 8:46 AM EST. I was nonplussed. I couldn’t imagine what kind of inane pilot was flying so low in the City. I quickly scanned web radio and found continually updated news reports. Almost immediately came the report of a second plane hitting the South Tower, and I knew our country was under attack. A small crowd of reps had gathered around my cube, and those of my neighbors, as more people became aware of the breaking news. We listened in horror, and then saw the first pictures of the damage from the planes. (I have included a link to a 10th anniversary pictorial story by The Atlantic at the bottom of this post) We were all dismayed, and all work came to a halt, as we began to pray and consider what was happening in and to our country.

We were not content to take our reports from the web, so a large contingency of us left the office, crossed the street and entered the lobby of a Marriott Residence Inn, where there was a TV in the lobby. The buildings were already on fire and great plumes of black smoke-filled the morning, New York air, darkening the skyline. I stood in rapt attention, in deep and unsettled prayer, and something like dismayed awe as we watched first the South, then the North Towers fall. I remember that I began to cry, finally, as I watched the South Tower slink down. In my memory, it simply gave up, rather than exploded, and it seemed to never stop descending down, down, down, in it’s sinewy death.

I cried because people I had video-conferenced with and sold software to were dying in those moments. I cried because I was unsure how much of a sustained attack our country was withstanding. I cried because I knew with prophetic certainty that the entire world was changing in those very moments. I cried as I preemptively mourned the lost naiveté our country was surrendering, along with security, along with the age of American Empire. We were losing all of this in the City of Empire! We lost it in a moment. And surely we had lost Empire in countless moments leading up to that one. We lost Empire when the hippies and gurus hit the scene in the 60’s, we lost it when Roe v. Wade declared an open season on unborn Americans,

we lost it when we funded Charlie Wilson’s War and unleashed Osama bin Laden and his Satanic mujahedeen on the world at the courtesy of taxpayer dollars and CIA training. We lost Empire when we turned our backs on God, as if He were some thing that did not exist! We were eating the world’s contempt for our success, and we were eating our own decline from a time of higher ideals, superior work ethics, and a more compassionate hand in international affairs. We were eating some nameless wrath, and we were eating it like a cold breakfast that no one could love.

But our enemies loved it. And they love it still. As good and faithful Americans mourn and memorialize today, our enemies will celebrate by giving one another gifts. They may dance in the street and make a horrific noise, that they would call jubilation. They may even attack us again, to add further insult to the injuries we have sustained. I do not want a memorial journal to turn into a rallying cry, but may I remind you, faithful reader, that there is an enemy at our very gate, that we must remain vigilant, and ready to demonstrate our own American brand of wrath, if we are so compelled. We are also suffering a terrible dearth of internal leadership from our President and our Congress, in the face of our demonic enemy’s threats.

I will face spiteful jeers and would-be “jokes” today on twitter.com, where deluded Americans gather to bitch about our continuing failures as a nation, ignoring the fact that the USA is still the best beacon of hope left in the world. If it were not so, there would be no one pouring over our undefended borders, literally dying for a chance to grab hold of a piece of our waning freedoms and prosperity. I will not retort when I hear the insults, though I will cringe. I am under no delusions, and I know that though America is guilty of a multitude of sins, we do not deserve to be so judged, unless it is by God Himself. Perhaps God is judging us, but He is compassionate, not willing that any should be lost, but that all should come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. Today, I will be praying to Jesus, confessing my sins, confessing the sins of our nation, praying for people in authority over us…praying that God will spare us for our children’s sake, and perhaps even their children.

I urge my readers to join me in these prayers of repentance. Also join me in praying for Courage, Honor, Fidelity, and Holiness, though it often appears that those things do not exist. THOSE THINGS DO EXIST! In a world that is post-everything, even post-hope, it is not impossible to hope against hope that God will hear our prayers and heal our land.

God bless you, faithful reader, and God bless the USA!

Jeff Jenkins

10 Year Anniversary Pictorial Article by The Atlantic

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About scribblerjeff

wordswurdswirds is the first-time ever blog on words, language, and the culture they invoke, through the eyes, mind, and keyboard of Jeff Jenkins. Jeff is a Christian/outlaw, husband, father, reader, writer, theologian, philosopher, and pre-apocalyptic, pop-culture prophet of the new media, which is the same as the old media. There is nothing new under the Sun. When I am not writing this blog, I am selling commercial janitorial services, though in my mind, I am already at the California Coast with my family and friends. Word! View all posts by scribblerjeff

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