The morning eleven years ago was very much like this morning in my little village about an hour north of New York City. On that morning we woke up to blue skies, warm sun and cool, late summer/early fall air.  A picture perfect day, until….
By 9:15 our world had turned upside down.
Fear.
Uncertainty.
Desperate calls to loved ones.
Prayers.
We spent the rest of the day either glued to the news, or calling everyone in the congregation or planning for a prayer service that evening.
Eleven years later the hole and the hurt created that morning remains.
So I begin this day and will end this day with this prayer: 

Today, let us take a moment to remember.
To remember all those who died that day whether because of hate or because of heroism.
To remember all those who lost loved ones;
And who still wake up each morning with a hole in  their hearts. 
And sit down to dinner each night with an empty place at the table.
Let us ask God to wrap almighty arms around their lives.
And, as we are able, for us to extend not just our hearts, but also our hands so as they continue to walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death they do not have to walk alone.

And while we are still angry and hurt and we still ask “Why?” let us find courage enough and wisdom enoungh to turn away from the hate which flies planes into buildings and straps bombs on young children and threatens to set fire to sacred texts, and instead to turn towards our best angels and to do our part to build a world where all have enough and all have a place and where the dream of “liberty and justice for all” becomes more than a dream and, instead, a realized promise for more and more people wherever they might be.