prayers for boston

prayers for boston.

it is moments like this that remind me i'm not a writer.  but in these moments i wish i were.  i wish i were able to convey the array of thoughts and emotions that are going through my head, which doesn't even touch the surface of those who directly experience such a tragedy as the boston marathon bombings.  i can read the news lines and read the conspiracy theories, but that doesn't begin to address the big picture of why?  why innocent people?  why?  why does a normal day have to be tainted by such a devastating act?  why?  why would anyone want to inflict this much sorrow?

in a few days, i am certain much of our world will return to our daily routines with little thought to the bombings of april fifteenth, just as we did after 9/11 and just as we did after the newtown school shootings.  that is, until next year when people return to the start line for the next boston marathon.  at that point, our nation will remember and reflect on the tragedy this week brought.  however, i cannot ignore the thought that a moment like this changes life, forever.  it changes the way our nation, if even just a small population, views life's ordinary and not-so ordinary moments.  in a moment of what should have been celebration for many turned into a day of heartbreak and devastation.  for many families, life will never be the same.  ever.

i can stand behind obama and declare justice to be had, but justice does not cover the wounded.  it does not restore the loss of life and the loss of normal activity for the number of people who will now have to relearn how to do life with one less leg or one less arm.  it does not restore the joy and the laughter in the home of the family who lost their eight year old son and brother.  it does not calm the fear that likely now weighs on the hearts of many.  and that is sobering.

whether a foreign job or an internal one, the fact remains that innocent lives were harmed for unnecessary purpose.  we can argue for and against laws and policies all day long, but i'm not a political person and the reality is, this isn't political, folks. while these tragedies are often linked to political elements and political faults, it goes much deeper than that.  this is the result of a fallen world.  a spiritual emptiness in our nation and across the world.  a struggle against the pit of our sin nature.

my human nature weighs this act of sin much higher than any sin i will likely commit in my lifetime.  i know this is wrong, but it is a battle my human nature will endure for what i presume to be a lifetime.  it is difficult to take in something like this and not wonder, "god, are you there?  are you seeing your children hurting?"  and then he says, "yes, i am here.  i do see my children hurting.  i see them hurting everyday.  and that is something my son endured on the cross.  he endured the hurt and the sin of each and everyone of my children, including you."

tragedies have touched the lives of people, of innocent people, from the beginning of time.  cain killed abel.  a brother killed by another brother.  the first family scarred by murder.  an innocent life taken.  was it politics then?  no.  it was sin.  it was a world that needed a savior, a protector.  we are a world that cannot live in peace on our own merit or our own works. 

two nights ago, i was reading in the book of psalms.  i was reading through the psalms where david cried out to the lord as he fled for his life as saul and his men tracked him down to murder him, out of anger and out of envy.  i couldn't help but read this psalm and truly read it is a prayer for boston, for america, for the world.

{psalm 17}

"o lord, hear my plea for justice.  listen to my cry for help.  pay attention to my prayer, for it comes from honest lips. declare me innocent, for you see those who do right.  you have tested my thoughts and examined my heart in the night.  you have scrutinized me and found nothing wrong.  i am determined not to sin in what i say.  i have followed your commands, which keep me from following cruel and evil people.  my steps have stayed on your path; i have not wavered from following you.  i am praying to you because i know you will answer, o god.  bend down and listen as i pray.  show me your unfailing love in wonderful ways.  by your mighty power you rescue those who seek refuge from their enemies.  guard me as you would guard your own eyes.  hide me in the shadow of your wings.  protect me from wicked people who attack me, from murderous enemies who surround me.  they are without pity.  listen to their boasting!  they track me down and surround me, watching for the chance to throw me to the ground.  they are like hungry lions, eager to tear me apart--like young lions hiding in ambush.  arise, o lord!  stand against them, and bring them to their knees!  rescue me from the wicked with your sword!  by the power of your hand, o lord, destroy those who look to this world for their reward.  but satisfy the hunger of your treasured ones.  may their children have plenty, leaving an inheritance for their descendants.  because i am righteous, i will see you.  when i awake, i will see you face to face and be satisfied."

so why?  why do sobering acts of violence like the boston marathon bombings happen?  sometimes we don't have the answer.  sometimes the answers are not revealed in our lifetime.  but, we have this:  "god's protection has far greater purposes than helping us avoid pain.  god also protects us by guiding us through painful circumstances, not only be helping us escape them" {new living translation study bible}.

march reads {part two}

welcome back for part two of march reads.  the quotes for this third book are much lengthier.  sarah's key by tatiana de rosnay.  this fictional story focuses on the historical events of the vel' d'hiv roundup in paris during the holocaust where french policemen arrested jewish families and essentially led many of them to their deaths at auschwitz.

{sarah's key, tatiana de rosnay}

"'what do you mean, papa? where are we going?  why aren't we going back home?  you tell me!  tell me!' she nearly screamed the last words.  her father looked down at her.  he said her name again, very softly.  his eyes were still wet, his eyelashes spiked with tears.  he put his hand on the back of her neck.  'be brave, my sweet love.  be brave, as brave as you can.'  she could not cry.  her fear was so great it seemed to engulf everything else, it seemed to suck up every single emotion within her, like a monstrous, powerful vacuum.  'but i promised him i'd come back, papa.  i promised him.'  the girl saw that he had started to cry again, that he wasn't listening to her.  he was wrapped up in his own grief, in his own fear."

"no one loved paris better than a true parisian.  no one was prouder of his city than a true parisian.  no one was half as arrogant, so haughty, so conceited, and quite so irresistible.  why did i love paris so?  i wondered.  maybe because it never gave in to me.  it hovered enticingly close, yet it let me know my place.  the american.  i'd always be the american.  l'americaine."

"think of nice things, think of all the things you like, of all the things that make you happy, of all those special, magical moments you remember."

"her father's face.  she could no longer look at it.  he gazed down at her with such despair, such sadness.  her tears washed the image of his face away.  she cried into her palm, alone.  her father did not touch her.  in those awful, lonely minutes, the girl understood.  she was no longer a happy little ten-year-old girl.  she was someone much older.  nothing would ever be the same again.  for her.  for her family.  for her brother."

"she felt sobs welling up in her throat but she forced herself not to cry.  never cry in front of these men.  never cry.  ever.  it's only hair.  hair will grow back."

"had she ever wished that woman dead?  she pondered.  yes, she had.  so maybe that's how it worked.  that's how all this had happened.  hating people so much that you wanted to kill them.  hating them because they wore a yellow star.  it made her shiver.  she felt as if all the evil, all the hatred in the world was concentrated right here, stocked up all around her, in the policemen's hard faces, in their indifference, their disdain.  and outside the camp, did everybody hate the jews, too?  is this what her life was going to be about from now on?"

"the grass tickled her nose.  it smelled delicious.  she wanted to bury her face in it and breathe in the green, tangy scent."

"'there,' she said, exulting.  'i'm burying the stars.  they're dead.  in their grave.  forever and ever.'  the girl laughed with rachel.  then she felt ashamed.  her mother had told her to be proud of her star.  proud of being a jew.  she didn't want to think about all that now.  things were different.  everything was different.  they had to find water, food, and shelter, and she had to get home.  how?  she didn't know.  she didn't even know where they were.  but she had money.  the man's money.  he had not been that bad after all, that policeman.  maybe that meant there were other good people who could help them, too.  people who did not hate them.  people who did not think they were 'different.'"

"'be careful, julia,' he repeated.  he smiled, but his eyes remained serious.  'you're playing with pandora's box.  sometimes, it's better not to open it.  sometimes, it's better not to know.'"

"number 26 appeared in front of them.  nothing had changed in the street, she noticed.  it was still the same calm, narrow road she had always known.  how was it possible that entire lives could change, could be destroyed, and that streets and buildings remained the same, she wondered."

"an old man on my left took a handkerchief from his pocket and wept noiselessly.  my heart went out to him.  who was he crying for?  i wondered.  who had he lost?"

 "the many faces around me appeared to be serene, listening to the prime minister.  i watched them as he continued with the same powerful voice.  but every one of those faces contained sorrow.  sorrow that could never be erased.  the prime minister's speech was applauded for a long time.  i noticed people crying, hugging each other."

"yes, the war is over, at last over, but for your father and me, nothing is the same.  nothing will ever be the same.  peace has a bitter taste.  and the future is foreboding.  the events that have taken place have changed the face of the world.  and of france.  france is still recovering from her darkest years.  will she ever recover, i wonder?  this is no longer the france i knew when i was a little girl.  this is another france that i don't recognize.  i am old now, and i know my days are numbered.  but sarah, gaspard, and nicholas are still young.  they will have to live in this new france.  i pity them, and i fear what lies ahead."

find my other 2013 reading list posts here:  les mis {part one}, les mis {part two}, march reads {part one}

march reads {part one}

happy april, friends!  as i'm sitting here getting ready to share some quotes from my march reads , i am watching snow and sleet fall.  april snow brings may flowers just does not have the same ring as april showers.  spring, where are you?!?!?

though i am well behind pace for my reading list this year, i did manage to check off three books: lady almina and the real downton abbey {the countess of carnarvon}, persuasion {jane austen}, and sarah's key {tatiana de rosnay}.  here are some of the quotes from my readings:

{lady almina and the real downton abbey, the countess of carnarvon}

"lord carnarvon travelled with george fearnside, his valet, and his french chauffeur, georges eilersgaard.  the car was left-hand drive, had four gears and could travel at the corresponding speeds of 4.5, 7, 10, and 13 miles per hours.  back in england later that month, he was summoned to appear in court in newbury for driving at more than 12 miles per hour (the legal limit at the time).  it was to be the first of numerous speeding fines for lord carnarvon."  --and i get impatient when the speed limit is 35 miles per hours.  goodness, times have changed.

"upstairs and downstairs, the people of highclere were staring life-changing tragedy in the face.  they just didn't know it yet."

{persuasion, jane austen}

"it sometimes happens, that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before; and generally speaking, if there has been neither ill health nor anxiety, it is a time of life at which scarcely any charm is lost."

"anne hoped she had outlived the age of blushing; but the age of emotion she certainly had not."

"mary, i cannot wonder at your husband.  nursing does not belong to a man, it is not his province.  a sick child is always the mother's property, her own feelings generally make it so."

"but i hate to hear you talking so, like a fine gentleman, and as if women were all fine ladies, instead of rational creatures.  we none of us expect to be in smooth water all our days."

"her spirits wanted the solitude and silence which only numbers could give."

"this little circumstance seemed the completion of all that had gone before.  she understood him.  he could not forgive her,--but he could not be unfeeling.  though condemning her for the past, and considering it with high and unjust resentment, though perfectly careless of her, and though becoming attached to another, still he could not see her suffer, without the desire of giving her relief.  it was a remainder of former sentiment; it was an impulse of pure, though unacknowledged friendship; it was a proof of his own warm and amiable heart, which she could not contemplate without emotions so compounded of pleasure and pain, that she knew not which prevailed."

"...and could not seriously picture herself a more agreeable or estimable man.  every thing united in him; good understanding, correct opinions, knowledge of the word, and a warm heart.  he had strong feelings of family-attachment and family-honour, without pride or weakness; he lived with the liberality of a man of fortune, without display; he judged for himself in every thing essential, without defying public opinion in any point of worldly decorum.  he was study, observant, moderate, candid; never run away with spirits or by selfishness, which fancied itself strong feeling; and yet, with a sensibility to what was amiable and lovely, and a value for all the felicities of domestic life, which characters of fancied enthusiasm and violent agitation seldom really possess."

"there they returned again into the past, more exquisitely happy, perhaps, in their re-union, than when it had been first projected; more tender, more tried, more fixed in a knowledge of each other's character, truth, and attachment; more equal to act, more justified in acting."

{intermission...feel the new to start a new post.  the third book has lengthier quotes.  see part two.