Part of my education work includes some visits to Washington, DC and Sacramento to educate our lawmakers on the importance of guarding our first-amendment rights; preserving parental rights; protecting human life; and keeping private, religious education free from government interference. One of my two annual DC trips occurs in mid-September, and my colleagues and I were checking in for a briefing in an office building just off the West Wing of the White House. Those who conduct business there are welcomed to the "White House," even though it is not part of the President's residence you see.
Just as we were nearing the completion of the screening process, I noticed some of my co-attendees coming out of the office, but they were accompanied by serious-faced White House staff. I heard that the White House was being evacuated, so we moved out to the sidewalk. Knowing what had happened in Moscow and in the US when private planes entered secure air space, I thought that someone on drugs had been careless and flown too close to the White House.
I was wrong.
White House security said we were too close to the White House; therefore, we had to move much farther away. It was then I realized something more than a harmless private plane was buzzing overhead. We still had no idea that America was under attack, but that quickly changed. Cell phones helped us learn of our situation.
When word spread among us that America was in trouble, we broke into small groups to pray on the street and sidewalk, asking God for His protection on our country and wisdom for our leaders. Two of my friends saw the Pentagon jet fly over our heads. Apparently, the terrorist pilot could not make the turn in time to hit the White House, so the poor, unsuspecting souls across the Potomac River were hit instead.
I'm not sure which of the two jets was truly intended to hit the White House, but that doesn't matter. For me, God's mercy on those of us at the White House that morning meant additional days for me to cherish life, love others, and focus more intently on living a life that would please God and help others.
Three of us from California rented a car from Reagan National Airport and drove home a couple days after the attack. No sleep, just food and comfort breaks. I took the first shift and drove the first half with just short breaks. Adrenaline, and God's strength.
The license plate on my car says to all who see it what I believe in my heart: That I was "SPARED" on 9/11 in order to continue my walk on this Earth on behalf of the God who saved my soul from sin and spared my life from an "early" death. God is good. Always. And I'd say the same even if I hadn't been spared. I can't explain why I was allowed to live, but I can explain my purpose in life: It's my dear Savior and Lord Jesus, the Resurrection and the Life!
