Last week an idea for a post came to me. I wrote a couple of sentences before I had to go out. Promising myself that I would get back to it the next day and that it would be brilliant and witty and fun to write. A few days later than planned, today, I tried to get back to it. It seems to be over shadowed by yesterday’s events as the Boston Marathon was bombed.
My first thought was to make sure my Cousin Patricia was alright. She had just posted a picture of the marathon on her Face Book page. She has been a faithful spectator for years. Thankfully, she answered my text right away that she was a couple of miles away from the finish line when the bombs went off.
Although no one I know was injured yesterday, there is still a horrible sadness in my gut today. I grieve for the three families and their friends who lost a loved one at would should have been a happy celebration. It is incomprehensible that runners from all over the world started off the day with high hopes and all their extremities in tact only to end the day in surgery to amputate mutilated arms or legs. I can’t even believe that I typed those very words.
What kind of a mind can come up with such a diabolical and heinous idea? There is no pity in my heart for such a one. Just an honest passion to see them caught and brought to justice. What justice is there for this?
I have prayed for the victims of the bombing to become victors, some how. I am asking God to comfort people and to help us all recover from this horrid violation. I thank Him for the helpers who ran into the danger zone and held tourniquets and pushed wheel chairs and did any number of other mind numbing things that were necessary in order to rescue people. I ask God to help us focus on the fact that more people ran in to help their fellow human beings than the cowards who perpetrated this crime.
God help us to overcome evil with good. Thank you for the talented doctors and medical staff at some of the finest medical facilities in the world being located in Boston. Thank You for the miracles of medicine and the unexplainable miracles that came out of yesterday’s sorrow. Please heal broken hearts and shattered dreams as You continue to heal broken bodies.
I love Boston. My Mother was born in Brookline and I was raised in Massachusetts. I love the people of Boston. I still have family in Boston and surrounding towns. I have worked and lived in the Back Bay of Boston, walked the very streets on and around where the bombs went off. Bostonians don’t mince words and they don’t pretend to like you. You are either liked or not and you know it at the end of the day. In my Boston vernacular, I am pissed that some moron would think that he can get away with this. You obviously under rate the Boston PD and the citizens of Bean town.
Yes, I can pray and be pissed off at the same time. It is that kind of day!
Conisong 
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