At the End of the Day

My first inkling that anything was wrong was my cousin's post on Facebook. It simply read: Praying for the people of Boston. My heart sank, please Lord, not another school shooting. I opened Safari to check the news. Not being a runner of any sorts, I wasn't even aware that the Boston marathon was today. I see the pictures, the plumes of smoke, the stunned looks on faces, a runner sprawled on the ground.

While nothing of the same magnitude, memories of 9/11 come flashing back, and choking sobs are coming before I even know it. As I type this, we don't know if this home grown terrorism or from some overseas radical group. I honestly don't know which is worse. I honestly don't know if it really matters. Not if you are the family of one of the three who died today. Not if you are one of the ones who have lost their limbs.

I don't understand how a human being can justify planning this and doing this to other human beings. It's beyond my comprehension that while most of us grieve for the victims, for our continued loss of innocence, there are some out there who find joy in this type of sorrow.

It had been gray all day today, but as I left the house to get some fresh air, the sun broke through the clouds. I thought of a world who would say, this proves there is no God because how could he allow this to happen. And I thought of the thousands, the millions, who are crying out to him today. He has not forgotten.

As I started to drive home, I noticed behind me to the West the sun still in the sky. I turned my car around in search of answers even when I knew none could be found. Watching the horizon come to life as the light from the clouds and sun intertwined, there was just one truth for me. He was, is and always will be.

And at the end of the day, it gives me hope.