We’ve seen a lot this week — as a nation, as a family, as individuals. We’ve encountered situations I never wanted to have to explain to my kids. We’ve felt sorrow to the depths of our souls.
Yet, in the midst of those heart-shattering moments, we’ve seen joy. We’ve felt hope. We’ve seen the best that people have to offer.
We saw bombs planted by evil men destroy the lives of so many. We also saw ordinary men and women run toward the blast to help those injured.
We saw soldiers march for 26 miles with loaded backpacks in honor of their fallen comrades only to arrive at the finish line minutes before the blasts went off. We saw those same soldiers minutes later lifting barricades off of injured people.
We saw runners stranded on the streets of a city in which they were strangers. We also saw the residents of that city offer food and open up their homes by the thousands to those same strangers.
We saw a sporting event ruined by tragedy. Then we heard nearly 18,000 voices lifted in song together in an emotional statement of unity at the next sporting event in that city.
We’ve seen it all this week, the worst — and the best — of people. And we’ve learned that even in the midst of unspeakable tragedy, good shines through. God is there.
Psalm 30:5 says, “weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” Healing will take time — for the people involved, for the city of Boston and for our nation. Morning may seem a long time coming. But it will come. We will slowly take the steps back to the road of normalcy. We will be changed for the experience. Our children will be changed. They will never be able to step back into a time where they didn’t know that terror can hit near their own homes.
But we will heal. We will go on. There will be a Boston Marathon next year. This morning, we will step outside our doors and go about our lives. And we will be stronger because of it.
We will never forget the horror and sadness of the past week. But neither will we forget the kindness of strangers, the heroism of ordinary people and the unity found in pulling together after a shared pain.
Remember the events of this week, but remember, too, that healing is coming — and joy comes with it.