Also…wanted to say it’s been awhile, but saw you play at the Nashville Sounds game…ages ago, it was amazing!!! 

I know that God is faithful, even when we doubt His very existence. When we have the audacity to, having seen, touched, and tasted the wonders of this world which He created, still desire to probe His wounds, He remains faithful.

Too many times we attribute amazing works in our lives to “coincidence”. I am ashamed to say that I am guilty of this. When my faith has been weakest, I seem most willing to excuse amazing examples of God’s perfect plan at work. During one of these particularly weak times and shortly after my recent medical troubles, a family friend prayed with me that I would experience something so impressive in my life, that I could not simply attribute it to “coincidence”.

I had all but forgotten that prayer, in the midst of our getting rid of property and preparing our home to sell. Then, one rather unimpressive item we had decided to get rid of would come to symbolize God’s faithfulness to another family, and to ours, by using us as a vessel.

One of the items that we were disposing of was a trumpet. I had purchased it some years before at a thrift store or yard sale. I couldn’t remember which or exactly when. We had it for several years. I had given it to one of my sons. He and his brothers occasionally spit and coughed into it in attempts to make sound. My wife and I wanted to donate it to a thrift store, because we didn’t really feel that it was worth the effort to put on E-bay. My son would have none of that. He insisted that we attempt to sell his prize trumpet. However, the several times when we attempted to list the trumpet, he could not produce all of the parts required to make it work. It seemed we were always missing a mouthpiece or some other integral part of the horn. One day in late August, we found everything and listed the trumpet and case on E-bay. My son was quite pleased.

A couple of days into the auction, we received an e-mail from a potential buyer asking us if there was any identification on the trumpet or case. Oddly enough, we had never even looked at it that closely. Upon close inspection, we saw that the name “Chic Burlingame” was carefully scratched into the handle of the case. My wife and I wondered if Chic might have been a famous jazz musician. I performed an Internet search for his name and learned that Chic was not a famous jazz musician, but he was quite an amazing trumpeter, nonetheless.

I learned that Charles “Chic” Burlingame was the son of two military parents. He and his brothers and sister were brought up in a loving and supportive home. His mother encouraged a love of music and dictated that each child learned to play an instrument. Chic selected this trumpet. He practiced it every day, while he was learning to play. His sister, from the other side of a bedroom wall, could testify to his dedication to learn this instrument. On Sundays, Chic would strap this trumpet in its case to the back of his bicycle and ride with it to church, where he played in the band. Chic played the trumped in the High School band with his younger brother. Chic went on to play the trumpet at the United States Naval Academy, where he attended college.

In addition to his love of music, he had a love of aviation from an early age. At the age of six, he fashioned a model airplane from scraps of wood. On the wings, he wrote the letters “U.S.A”. Chic, with his trumpet in hand, eventually went on to graduate from the United States Naval Academy. He was known as a gifted pilot. He flew F4 “Phantom” fighter jets from the U.S.S. Saratoga aircraft carrier. He served several tours at and was an honor graduate of the Navy’s elite “Top Gun” school in Miramar, California. He remained in the Naval Reserve, even after became a pilot in the private sector.

Chic was definitely a great American success story and an example of exemplary character. We were proud to learn that we had found the beloved trumpet of his youth. The more we learned about Chic, the more we were inspired.

We learned that, during his time at the Naval Academy, Chic played the trumpet with a man named Frank Culbertson. Frank was also a gifted aviator. He went on to become an astronaut. Frank Culbertson observed the events of September 11, 2001, from his position as the Commander of the International Space Station. He, with his trumpet, was the lone American in space that day.

Frank Culbertson watched the smoke rising after the attacks on his homeland. He did not know, at that time, that his classmate and fellow trumpeter was the Captain of American Airlines Flight 77, which had been hi-jacked and flown into the Pentagon earlier that morning.

After learning of Chic’s death, Frank memorialized him and the thirteen other Naval Academy graduates who lost their lives during the attacks on September 11, 2001 in a special broadcast from space. It concluded with Frank playing “Taps” on his trumpet. Frank later commented how differently tears flow in space.

We ended our auction of the trumpet.

I just want to let you know you weren’t the only one who questioned American Christianity after 9/11. It actually didn’t really hit me until America went to war in Iraq. It was in those months leading up to the war, in the winter of ‘02 when war was on everyone’s mind and lips.

I was attending a Bible study and we watched a movie called The Mission with Jeremy Irons and Robert DeNiro. You may have seen it, but it’s about 2 missionaries, one who decides to take up arms and fight off the Spanish invaders with the tribe and one who passively accepts his fate.

The leader’s intention was to get us talking. I don’t remember about what in particular, but the night ended with me and my friend debating in front of the whole group of about 12 whether or not Christians should fight and if so what should we fight for. It dawned on me that night, “Can I see Jesus killing another human?” I couldn’t answer that with a yes. I saw no reason to justify it. So could I?

And taken a step further, do I think it’s right for America to go to war? There the lines were blured (And today I would say no). But should Christians encourage/support war? Should Christians desire the death and demolition of others?

I know there is that seeming “God of War” from the Old Testament. And God told the Israelites to destroy their enemies. But America is not Israel. And the “Kingdom of God” as I understand it exists in every nation.

So for me, as a follower of Jesus, how could I wish death on another? I don’t think a Christian has any rights to himself. I think of all the martyrs who gave their lives to “terrorists” and they never lifted a finger to hurt another.

P.D.

We read over an online news alert that the first aircraft hit the World Trade Center.  We figured it was a small plane, lost somehow.  It was sad.  After we heard the second plane hit, we went into our boss’ office to watch together as the towers collapsed and to receive the news from another coworker who was on the roof of our building that a pillar of smoke was coming from the direction of the Pentagon. 

We looked outside to see what we later learned was the White House staff, running for their lives down the street. 

One after the other, we began receiving reports that there had been a car bomb in front of the State Department and a fire on the National Mall between the Washington Monument and the Capitol.  We heard that the Sears Tower had been bombed.  We didn’t know at the time that those reports were false.

The DC Metro subway system shut down. The roads were impassibly jammed with cars trying to get out of town.  We were stuck in the city.

A coworker–normally ruddy, playful, and chatty–got off the phone from talking to a friend in “secret places” to say that a fourth plane was still in the air and heading, they thought, for the White House. He was pallid and couldn’t speak beyond that.  The nation was under attack, we were told. We called home and left tearful “I love you” messages for our mothers and then the phones went dead.

The question became, do we stay in our building, which is in the path of that plane, or try to make it home?  Home, we decided, or as close to it as we could get.

A coworker went to get his car and as I waited for him, I got to share my hope in Christ with a bunch of people–even some who had blown me off before when spiritual topics came up. 

A few of us then decided to wait on the street. So I grabbed food and water from the office, not knowing where we’d end up or for how long, and went outside with one coworker who was fighting to keep from going into premature labor from the stress and another whose fiancé worked in the Pentagon and was missing. 

We walked a block toward the parking garage and wound up in front of Secret Service headquarters where heavily armed and bulletproof vested agents were running in every direction.  Two of them ordered us to take cover.  We were unsafe being on the street so close to the White House, they said.

My friend finally extricated his car from the garage and we crammed into the seats and the footwells and the trunk and began our two hour, eight mile drive home.  Emergency vehicles nearly sideswiped us as they squeezed through the lines of cars. Police and military aircraft seemed to swoop down on the traffic like enraged wasps. We gasped at the burning Pentagon as traffic crawled by it and we hugged tightly as we said goodbye at the suburban Metro station parking lot.

Alone outside my car, I looked up to see the most brilliant blue sky and gleaming sun. Emotionally, I was as numb as the day my husband died.  But my mind still worked. And at that moment, I thought it cruel that the day was so clean and bright outside when, inside us, our hearts had been shrouded by such a sooty darkness of fear and sadness.

It wouldn’t stay dark inside of me forever though. In fact, I began to understand the change that God had in mind for me through the experience of that day when I got in my car and turned the key in the ignition.

I grew up in a Christian home that was VERY patriotic as well.  (Much like yours Shaun).  My political views have changed a great deal since 9/11 too.  Not really because of 9/11, but because I’ve prayed through a great deal, been educated by some great teachers, and been open to what the Holy Spirit is saying to me.  Not that those who don’t share by beliefs are any less educated or open to the Holy Spirit.  Not sayin that at all!  I still struggle with a lot of things and I haven’t come to any solid conclusions on some things either, but I’m learning, and growing, and my faith is being tested.  That’s what it’s all about afterall.  A deeper relationship with God as my LORD is where this has all taken me and I hope it will continue to do so.

Beth