Today I have a guest columnist, my friend Ryan Ho, who was there...
Is there a parade today? I looked out the window with a bit of confusion as paper fluttered down from the sky. Working on the twentieth floor of an office building in downtown New York City, I didn't often see objects fall from above. I stood up from my desk, moved into another room to get a better view. . . and gasped in horror at the gaping, burning hole that I saw in the side of the World Trade Center’s North Tower.
So began one of the most consequential days of my life. When the Twin Towers fell on September 11, the world changed, and so did I. Up to that point, I was in no rush to do anything significant or meaningful. I had intended to go into ministry since I was a boy, but after graduating college and acquiring a well-paying job in Manhattan, I became comfortable. I was succeeding tremendously at work and I clearly had a future in the company. Overall, I felt secure.
When the second plane flew into the South Tower before my eyes, that sense of security shattered. I remember distinctly wondering what would happen next; how can we recover from this? As the Towers toppled, I knew that New York would never be the same, and it wasn’t. Little did I know, I would never be the same, either.
The Monday after the Towers fell I returned to work, but a part of me never went back—the part that felt comfortable, the part that felt secure. I looked around the office and saw things with new eyes. The job paid well and it had a future—but it wasn’t my future. I knew that the Lord had called me to more.
Ryan went on to graduate from Dallas Theological Seminary. He has worked as an associate pastor and church planter in Oklahoma and Oregon. His story appeared in Frappé with Philippians.