Nicholas Lanza, who is now seventeen, lost his mother in the towers on 9/11. For years he was filled with anger, heartache and despair. Then recently, at a church camp, everything changed.
"You see, I was still carrying the one thing that was wearing me down and leaving me broken. I was still carrying my mother. I wouldn't let her go. It was almost as if she was bound to me. But then during a service, one of my good preacher friends and a few other ministers gathered around me and they began to pray for me. My friend told me it was time to let everything go. Throw it all away. For a moment, I didn't know what was going on; all I could see was this blinding white light. A voice began to say, "You belong to me, my child. You shall no longer be burdened with these chains that you wear about you. You are free."
It was then I realized I was in my own prison, bound with the thick iron chains of depression, wrath, unforgiveness, and the thickest and strongest of all chains - my own mother. I can recall being deathly quiet for several moments. Then words came into my head. They weren't really spoken, but it was as though they were there all the time: "I love you. Now go and tell others the same."