Run for Boston

There just aren't words to describe my feelings about the marathon bombing yesterday. Shock.  Rage.  Grief.  Etc. The stories that are emerging are devastating. The feeling of helplessness is heavy on everyone.  Frustration is growing as we are trying so hard to find a name and a face to hold accountable, because a known enemy is much less scary.

But mixed with that are the stories of light and hope-- the first responders, the good Samaritans, the blood donations, the outpouring of love and support from across the country.

I saw several things floating around Facebook to show support for the runners-- wear a race shirt, or wear blue and yellow as those are the Boston Marathon colors.  Go for a run, and use that time to reflect on those who are now unable to run. 

Hubs is in training ALL WEEK.  His days are long and tiring.  It's basically me and the boys this week, which is more than fine, but means that my opportunities for running are somewhat hampered.  But I wanted to get out there today.  I felt like I HAD to.

Why?  Why not do something "productive" like donate blood or send money?  Who is it going to help to put on a shirt and go jog in a circle?  All valid questions.

And to that, I say this: Allowing fear to keep you from doing something you love is letting the bad guys win.

I'm training for my first marathon, and I am prepared for it to be the hardest thing (physically at least) I have ever done.  I know the feeling of accomplishment I have gotten from finishing shorter races, and I am so looking forward to the exhilaration of crossing a marathon finish line.   And I just simply cannot fathom having that moment turn into the horror from yesterday.  But I'm not going to let fear deter me.  I'm not going to roll into Orlando in January waiting for the worst to happen.  I'm going to keep running, and I joined thousands of others today who KEPT RUNNING.

Running to make a statement, not to anybody in particular but more to themselves, that whatever motives were in place for the attack won't break our spirits.
Running to remind ourselves to count our blessings.
Using the run time to pray for the victims, the families, and the entire city.  The country.

This whole messed up world.

And that's just what I did.  I loaded up all 70 pounds of two boys (dressed in yellow and blue) into my double jogger, put on my most recent race shirt, and ran 2.62 miles.  I ran and I prayed.

Many people ran in silence today, but I went with David Crowder in my ear.  A fellow CDH mama, Rhonda, sent me a CD of music she and her husband compiled while Esther fought a good fight.  They lost Esther 2 weeks before Parker was born, and I can't tell you what a lifeline that CD was for me. It still is.  On it is a song called "Oh Great God, Give Us Rest."  It was perfect for today.

Oh great God give us rest
We're all worn thin from all of this
At the end of our hope with nothing left
Oh great God give us rest

Oh great God do your best
Have you seen this place it's all a mess
And I've done my part too well I guess
Oh great God do your best

Could you take a song and make it thine
From a crooked heart twisted up like mine
Would you open up Heaven's glory light
Shine on in and give these dead bones life
Oh shine on in and give these dead bones life

Let it shine, let it shine
On and on, on and on, come to life