Dear Boston–

Boston skyline

It has been a long time since I’ve written.  I’ve had plenty of words; I just haven’t made enough sense of them to write them down. I’m not even sure anyone is checking to see if I’ve posted anything lately.  In case a few of you are still out there and reading, I have a few things to say in light of yesterdays events.


Dear Boston,

I have no answers for you.  I’m not even sure I wish I did.  I’m not sure that when an articulated “why” appears it will be understandable. There are a few things I think you may find useful.

1. Grief is a sloggy thing.  There’s no good way around it.  You must put one foot in front of the other in the bog that grief is.  Those who try to glide over the surface while they sip on grief numbing drinks will find the aftertaste never leaves their mouths.  They’ll be surprised when the bog grows to the point where they must give up gliding in order to slog.   So, slog on Boston. Slog on.

2. Being a victim does not confer the right to be a perpetrator.  Too many people believe this.  It hasn’t ever gotten anyone anywhere they want to be.  Don’t even think about it.

3.  Life here isn’t the end of the story.  There’s a bigger, more joyous story that includes eternity.  I’m pretty sure it’s hard to think beyond the pain of the moment, but know that this isn’t all there is.  Those who love God aren’t spared the pains of life, they’re just assured that as heavy as they are they’ll seem light when we start to grasp the glory and joy ahead of us for all eternity.

4. You are not alone.  The nation grieves with you.  While some around the world will inevitably think, “It’s about time–nothing personal, Boston.” Others will readily identify with the pain you feel.  They’ve been there.  They understand in ways many of us can not. Hear their voices filled with compassion.  Learn the language of compassion so you can speak to some of those who will suffer next.  I hate that I can even think there will be a next, but history doesn’t seem to have an example of brutality ending because anyone grieves.

I’m so sorry you’ve suffered.  May you and all who were present know the peace of Jesus that surpasses understanding, the comfort of the Holy Spirit, and the wisdom of the Father.



16 Responses to “Dear Boston–”