© photo credit: http://bostonherald.com
Today I counted 32 cars in a funeral procession, plus the hearse and a limousine. They passed by our house just as the steeple chimes of St. Francis Church rang out a familiar hymn.
The sound of the bells make sad things feel less sad.
Last week, Chris and I sang at a memorial service for the father of two of our youth kids. He died suddenly, leaving an adoring wife, nine children, three grandchildren, his sweet mother and an extended community of family and friends. It was a packed house with barely a dry eye in the room. His life was honored well through stories and photographs, but the shock lingers and the grief is deep.
Then yesterday, the bombing in Boston happened.
It took me all afternoon to understand the event, it just didn't make sense to me. There were runners from Medina there, and relatives of friends we know. Our friend, Kathy, posted this sentiment on her Facebook wall last night:
"If there is a prayer bowl in heaven that when it's so heavy and gets tipped over, showers of mercy, grace, and healing are poured out from above, then I will do my part to add to that prayer bowl. "Hear my cry, O God; attend unto my prayer. From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee. When my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy. I will abide in thy tabernacle forever: I will trust in the covert of thy wings." - Psalm 61. "Father, please, release healing to those who are suffering near and far because of what happened in Boston. Bring hope. Have mercy, O Lord."
Another dear friend, Michelle, posted this morning:
"Evil makes more noise and does significant damage, but there is more good in this world than evil. We need to change the voice of media, highlight what is good and true and noble, give voice to what is lovely pure and beautiful. Give attention to what is worthy. Push back the darkness, do not be overcome by it."
Well said, ladies. I am holding on tightly to your words.