My Heart Is Broken | Boston Marathon Bombing

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I was angry, seething, as I pushed through the door of the auto shop, looking for my mechanic so I could tell him the bad news that it would take another day for me to get the money together to purchase his sedan from him. After spending almost 45 minutes at the Post Office, on the phone (first with my bank, then with my debit card issuer), trying to get a money order for the cost of the vehicle, only to find out that you can only buy a maximum of $800 in a 24 hour period… I was an unhappy, short-tempered woman, and in that moment, I didn’t much care who knew it.
And then I walked into the auto shop, and caught the tail end of President Obama’s address to the nation, in the wake of the Boston Marathon Bombing.
Everything changed. I didn’t know, then, that 3 people had died, or that one of them was an 8 year old little boy. I didn’t know that the villian who assembled the bombs filled them with BBs, and many people lost limbs as a result. I didn’t know that more than 100 people had been hospitalized with injuries ranging from minor to life threatening. All I knew was that the face of my nation had changed, once again, because of the viciousness of other human beings.
It was all I could do not to burst into tears, to slide to the floor and weep. Weep for the lives lost, the lives changed. Weep for the terror of those present. Weep for the world my child is inheriting.
All of my anger and frustration and annoyance over the incomplete car purchase evaporated instantly. How could I rage against delays when yet another tragedy had just struck my country, my fellow Americans?
So I concluded my business for the evening, and returned to my family as quickly as the speed limit allowed. I held my daughter close, and tried to remain calm as I told my husband what had happened. Once again, I fought tears.
That night, Nick “helped” Serenity pray for those affected by the bombing, especially for the families who lost their loved ones. I did cry, then. Softly, trying not to disturb my daughter, swiftly drifting away to sleep. And I prayed, too, that God would heal broken hearts and broken dreams.
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