Lamentations begins: "How desolate sits the city that once was full of people. How like a widow she has become." Outwardly we in New York have moved on since Sept. 11. Inwardly we're scarred with lamentations. We've told stories for two years. It's comforting to pay attention to grief and despair. Without that, we're spiritually wounded.
The lamentations have taken many forms: silence, tears, tales of death and heroism, morbid thoughts of flying bodies, repeated expressions of abandonment. Some were enclosed in prayers; some in shaking the fist at God. The question "Where was God on Sept. 11?" wasn't only on Time's cover. Laments provided space for tears and deep longing of the soul.
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