Thursday, April 18, 2013


It's hard to move beyond Monday's events.   Policemen and armed militia dot the streets on my way into work.  Nothing feels right, yet nothing feels more real than to know I am a Bostonian.  We will get through this tragedy.  We will support the innocent victims and we will catch the people who did this.  Justice will be served.

Marianne Williamson posted this prayer on her blog after Hurricane Sandy.  I find it equally relevent for us today and have taken liberty to edit it to fit Marathon Monday.

It can be difficult finding peace at a time of full tilt catastrophe. To many on the East Coast, the destruction must feel like a cross too hard to bear. Why, you might ask yourselves, is your area of the country so often ground zero? Why are you the ones to be in the line of fire? And many of us, living far away from you geographically, can only say, "We love you. And thank you." We know you've sometimes taken the hit for what all of us have created.
But I assume that while you've experienced destruction, you've also been blessed by miracles. Destruction is usually material, while reconstruction begins on a spiritual plane -- not seen physically at first, but bursting forth like little knowings in the soul. I'm sure it's not easy -- in fact, the most brilliant dawns often emerge after nights of anxiety and anguish -- but there's no way you're not burning through layers of meaninglessness not just for yourselves but for all of us. I know you're learning in whole new ways what it means to live in community, to be there for each other, to survive without much of what you thought you needed in order to survive, to throw yourselves on God's mercy at a time when nothing or no one in the mortal world can lift you up in the way you feel you need, and to hug your kids like you've never hugged them before. From broken houses to broken hearts, you're having to sift through the debris of a world that needs to die now, and for the sake of all of us, make room in your hearts for some powerful new beginnings.
The rest of the country is doing what we can for you...praying, sending money and material help, definitely not turning away. And at least as importantly, we're bearing witness not only to your agony but to your courage. We deeply acknowledge the journey of sorrow you're having to take within yourselves -- not only to endure but to triumph, and ultimately to transcend the storm of the times in which we live.
I know I speak for many in sending you all the love in the world.