Pray For Boston

Yesterday, I watched part of the Vienna City Marathon. It was a crazy big event, blocking off city highways and hosting over 40,000 runners from all over. There were the professionals with a head-start and world records, an 'elite group' with exceptional times, but mostly just average looking people with a dream. These were my favorites: unlike the stars who were coolly unphased by the routine, the normal people were panting and struggling by the 1/3 mark where I was standing but still fighting onwards towards their goal, after working so very hard to get to that point already. They grimaced in concentration  but broke into a smile when we whooped for them in particular, and seeing that extra burst of speed after yelling out to someone made me glow with miniature pride for their gritted determination. They had fun with it, too. I saw everything from a group in simple matching t-shirts to sponsored beer advertisement costumes to lederhosen and a bumblebee.

After the race, the city continued to buzz with excitement from the event. The U-Bahn was full of participants proudly sporting their numbers and medals, and the entire thing made me want to get in shape and take up running. I couldn't imagine the thrill and exhilaration that would come from completing such a challenge and test of endurance. It was a simply energized city, from the runners and their personal supporters to absolutely everyone on the street cheering for them and respecting their dedication. It was happy.

It's the contrast, then, that kills me. It's the knowledge about how happy everything could have been, should have been, would have been, in Boston today. But it wasn't, and now there are countless families and friends and lovers and runners who have had their lives forever changed. There are the two dead, and also the many others physically severely wounded; the tallies don't even begin to measure the psychological damage dealt by today's bombing. The news articles and photographs are wrenching, because it could have been so good, and instead it is hell on earth.

I found out through Facebook, like too many tragedies of late. I want to hug my loved ones and keep them safe. I don't know the cause or origin behind these attacks, and I can hardly imagine the feelings in Boston right now, but I would think them to be the exact opposite of last night in Vienna. I've been following reactions on social media, and I suppose one of the better truths is that an overwhelming number of people are talking about praying for Boston, more than anything else. There's the shock and outrage, fear and hurt, but also so much hopeful desperate support for the entire city. People bind together through horrors like this, hold each other up during the worst parts, and through that, some help must come. I truly believe in the power of prayer, and tonight, I'll be adding my voice to that chorus.

Listen close, we need You.