Run and Pray

This won’t be a post about Boston.  I’ve read, listened to, and breathed in so many words of wisdom and seen so much imagery that I’m filled to overflowing with them.  I’ve shed gallons of tears, prayed fervently, thought about the victims and their families, and imagined “what if” until I’m exhausted from it.  That precious eight year old’s face haunts my dreams, and thoughts of how his father and family are dealing with all this is almost more than I can bear.  The faces of the injured and their stories are inspiring, and they are each in my prayers when I run.  I wasn’t there, nor will I probably ever qualify to run Boston.  But, still, I feel like someone came into my home and attacked my family.

Again, this isn’t a post about Boston.  The aftermath left me mute and unable to write for many days.  I was still in New York City when it happened, had gone for a run in Central Park that morning and day dreamed of a future in which I might be fast enough to even dream about qualifying.  The days following the bombing were filled with travel and work for me, and I remained mute.  What I was able to do was run and pray.  So, run and pray I did.

I’m still running, and I’m still praying.  I’m carrying some residual sadness in my soul, not just from that incident, but from other, more personal things, as well.  I’m saddened by a world that tries to strip away the joy of life’s most joyous events, I’m saddened for those victims and their families, I’m even saddened for the suspects and their angry, thrown away lives.  I’m saddened by a world that disregards human life. I’m saddened by  a world that doesn’t realize that our problems stem from turning our backs on God, and turning our faces toward evil.   So, I pray.  And, I run.

I run toward joy and healing, not just for myself, but for a hurting world.  A fellow blogger posted in her commentary that rather than just running a “tribute” run, do something.  Give blood at your local blood bank, volunteer your time at a soup kitchen, be a visible presence in the life of someone who desperately needs a hero to look up to, walk into your neighborhood nursing home and ask which patients don’t get many visitors, then visit them.    You don’t have to be a hero to help. You just have to do it.   Let this incident be the impetus that gets you moving, and gets you helping.  There’s always a need for smiling faces and helping hands somewhere.  Find your place.

I run toward hope and our future.  I know that the running world will go on.  That’s what we do, we move forward, we endure.  I also know that America will endure, and I pray that we will turn our faces back to God and reach out to each other with love and acceptance.

This is a post about hope.  About faith and love, and how those are the greatest of things.  The only things that can heal this hurting world.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  1 Corinthians 13:7-7


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