It's a rainy, cold day in Dallas today. 51 degrees on May 2, as a matter of fact.
I'm trying hard to keep my eyes open. We were up until nearly midnight watching the news.
They caught him. The epitome of evil. I refuse to mention his name on this blog because his name alone epitomizes evil in every sense of the word.
But they caught him. And he's dead.
I was in ninth grade, about to enter my health class when Ryan Brown ran down the back stairwell shouting, "America is under attack!"
We ran into Coach Cornelision's class and he turned his computer around, and we all watched the replays of the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center and on the Pentagon. Our school went under immediate lockdown. No one in, no one out. I went home that afternoon and sat with my mom, eyes glued to the TV. I remember she was folding clothes and crying. I was scared, as we all were.
I remember President George W. Bush saying after the attacks, "Freedom itself was attacked this morning by a faceless coward, and freedom will be defended."
That faceless coward was killed last week by members of the best military, CIA and anti-terrorism forces in the world, and we are thankful.
Last night, in the middle of The Real Housewives of Orange County, I picked up my phone and I saw it: "He is dead." I screamed, paused the show and yelled at Brandon to open the computer immediately. I texted my Dad. I started crying. We watched FOX News all evening. My husband prayed over us, thanking the Lord for our fearless leaders and military, and thanking God for this victory.
While I wasn't pleased with Obama's speech ("no matter what God you pray to" and the constant mention of "I" and "me,") I was pleased with George W. Bush's statement. I just wish this had happened under his presidency.
For those 2,752 people that lost their lives the morning of September 11, 2011, this death is justice. For their families, this death is justice. For those soldiers fighting tirelessly, this death is justice. For America, this death is justice.
Just like after 9/11, our nation is coming together today, heads held high, sentiments of "I'm proud to be an American" throughout. We're excited, anxious and scared. We're proud.
Thank you to all of our nation's military (and their families), CIA, our President (present and former), but most of all, thank you to our Lord whose promises are fulfilled.
Last night, Isaiah 55:8-9 kept rolling through my mind:
"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts."
He has a plan. While we may not understand why it took nearly 10 years for him to be captured and killed, we're not supposed to. Our ways aren't his ways.
As my husband said last night, "I'm proud to be an American. I really, really am."