God Is in Control

We all think we are in control. We are not. God is in control. Sometimes, it washes over you, almost knocks you over. It is also consoling. On a recent trip to DC, God’s all-knowing hit me hard again.

Years ago – 24 to be exact – I was boarding a plane for Phoenix, to speak to law enforcement. I flew all the time, never worried about anything but making the plane.

Back then, we had no security, no charge for carry-ons, plenty of leg room – even in economy. I like windows, so I got one. Once on board, I put stuff overhead and fell asleep.

As I drifted off, I mused on how odd the human mind is, and wondered why we think what we do when we do. Entering that DC airport, a strong feeling, powerful. It was specific and out of nowhere. It made me question why we get random thoughts, and they’re gone.

The thought was this: You are not late, you are on time. You are turning left to go down a long corridor to get a seat on a no-name airline. If any plane is hijacked today, it will not be yours.

So bizarre was this thought, it mystified me. No passenger plane had been hijacked in a decade. This was 2001. A Navy reservist at the Pentagon, I served with a special intelligence unit, Chief of Naval Operations. Our “spaces” had just moved – to a different “wedge.”

Falling asleep, my mind shifted to how gorgeous the day was. Airborne at 7:30 am, the sun was bright, painting everything warm, not a cloud in the sky. I loved flying, but promptly fell asleep.

Without being too detailed, the next thing I heard was the pilot saying – in a calm but unsettled voice – that the president had ordered all planes (4,500) to land wherever they were. We were over Wichita. Nose to tail – like Indian elephants – dozens of planes lined up, and spiraled down.

Only on landing did we learn New York’s Twin Towers had collapsed, then a plane was down in Pennsylvania – and that one had hit the Pentagon. For 23 hours, I drove to DC, aimed for home.

As I did, roads were empty – except for silent ambulances, speeding to military planes with unnecessary blood.  Flags flew on overpasses. Prayer groups huddled by the roadside with candles.

As the night unfolded, I learned my seven Navy friends were gone. The plane hit our wedge, penetrated to the 4^th ring. It was hard to process. I did not think about the premonition for weeks.

Immediately, I volunteered for active duty, got orders for months to rebuild the unit. Time flew, long shifts, new people, things to do, purposeful but focused. The nation mourned, life changed, forever

Looking backwards, much of our life makes more sense later than when lived. Dozens of things –more than we know – happen with what seems randomness, only making sense – if they ever do – later. Inexplicable, bad, sad things trouble us, unless we understand: We are not in charge. He is.

This event was one. My life was spared – twice that day – so I worked, and still do, to understand why, to what end. What does He now expect of me? I was able to raise children. My family did not need to digest my disappearance and funeral as others did.

In the years since, my faith – made from youth in Maine – has gotten stronger. I have concluded that what God lays at my doorstep is meant to be there, even if not wanted. I have gone back to 9-11 services at Arlington, where friends lie.

But one thing – I am not sure why – I have never done. I have never summoned the courage to walk that memorial beside the Pentagon, on the plane’s flightpath, for those who died on 9/11.

At that memorial, each person – many young – who died that day has a personal monument. It is a wave of steel, covered in granite, and under each one, moving water. Each bears a name.

So, last week, when Maine’s Wreaths Across America came to DC to lay wreaths at the memorials and Arlington, we stopped at the 9-11 Memorial. For the first time ever – now 24 years later – I saw my friends’ names on these memorials, and was able to lay a wreath for them.

It was cathartic. We must remember those we lost by name, not in general, but one by one. Sometimes that takes going to a place where they come to mind. We must pause to recall the goodness of their lives in ours, their special gifts, and what their loss implies for our still living.

So, on a brisk day, in a gift beyond description, “Wreaths Across America” allowed me, just a volunteer, to reconnect with my friends. It felt good. They are still young and alive, to me. One by one, they reminded me of the values we shared, things we worked for, what is expected, and this: God is in control. We are not. Sometimes, it almost knocks you over. It can also be consoling.

Robert Charles is a former Assistant Secretary of State under Colin Powell, former Reagan and Bush 41 White House staffer, Maine attorney, ten-year naval intelligence officer (USNR), and 25-year businessman. He wrote “Narcotics and Terrorism” (2003), “Eagles and Evergreens” (North Country Press, 2018), and “Cherish America: Stories of Courage, Character, and Kindness” (Tower Publishing, 2024). He is the National Spokesman for AMAC. Today, he is running to be Maine’s next Governor (please visit BobbyforMaine.com to learn more)!