At Half Mast

I saw this flag at half mast on the bluffs of La Crosse. 

I actually noticed it a few days ago on this work trip and thought to myself I bet it is pretty up there.  I thought it would be peaceful, but hustle this and bustle that and I knew I had no intentions of seeing it for myself. But today is 9/11. It is a day that puts things into perspective. It is a sobering and honest day. 

I saw this flag at half mast on the bluffs of La Crosse. And I felt the need to do something to intentionally nod at the happenings twelve years ago. The day I distinctly remember feeling a fear that was foreign to my thirteen year old life. I felt that same fear again when Sandy Hook happened...and once more when the Boston bombers were at large. It is a feeling that is far too familiar for many in this country...

So I found a mysterious road that could only lead to somewhere beautiful. You know the kind...the winding, curving "WATCH FOR FALLING ROCKS" paths. I wasn't certain it would lead me to my sought after destination, but it felt right.

I found myself at Grandad's Bluff. I found myself at the base of a flag at half mast. I found myself in a peaceful place to thank God for my blessings, to pray for those in this country who have felt such deep, shattering pains of loss, and to remember. To remember what happened that day. To remind myself to love and cherish and thank every day.