The Boston Marathon Bombing

I wanted to write a post about this. I have a hard time with posting about tragedies on Facebook. It's not that I'm not sorrowful or sympathetic to the pain the victims face, but I sometimes feel like Facebook gets clogged with almost obligatory posts. I don't doubt people's sincerity, but I sometimes think people post about it because they're afraid everyone is going to think they don't care, and I refuse to be apart of that. It's not that I don't care. It's not at all that I don't care. I just hate the pressure of social media in times like these.

I do have thoughts I would like to share with whomever cares to read them. Here they are:

The Boston Marathon bombing affected me more than any of the other recent tragedies. I used to live in Colorado, but no one I knew was harmed or even in the vicinity of the theater shooting when it occurred. I can not even wrap my head around what it might be like to witness or be a victim of a shooting. I have never had a child, or experienced the death of a loved one, so the immense pain surely induced by the Sandy Hook shooting is not something I can even fathom. I cannot relate to this. I cannot empathize. I often find myself thinking any sympathy I feel is wildly inadequate relative to the tremendous torment being experienced by those affected by these acts of terrorism.

I have run a marathon. I have felt the complete drain of energy, the complete toll that running 26.2 miles takes on the body. I have felt the relief and gratitude of seeing my family  and best friend waiting for me at the finish line. I have felt the inspiration and accomplishment that comes from working so hard for a goal and finally attaining it. This must have been nothing compared to how hard the runners of Boston Marathon worked to qualify for it, how they must have felt to finish it, how they must have felt to know the people they love most in the world were waiting for them at the finish line.

So now, just knowing what I know and understanding what little I understand, to imagine that triumph turn to terror; that inspiration turn to desperation; that exhaustion turn to despair. To see a day of happiness and well-deserved pride turn to a gruesome and horrific scene of blood and limbs literally spattered across streets, people running around in fear and confusion, and family members and friends crying over loved ones. To see these people of such immense character lose their loved ones, those they cherish most, those who had sacrificed their time to offer unending support and unconditional love. To see them lose their limbs--to lose the use of their bodies which are so essential to the lives they have chosen to lead, to have their dreams dashed by something that no one could ever have expected to happen. I am nauseated by it. I echo the entire nation when I say that there are not words to express my sadness to know that anyone would have to endure such a trial.

I also echo the nation when I express how amazed, inspired, and uplifted I feel to know how many people helped in the wake of the event. To see how quickly emergency response teams were on it, to hear of many runners running an extra 2 miles to the hospital to donate blood, to hear of people offering their home, their help, their resources, without even a second thought. It's beautiful. For one sicko who wanted to rob the Boston Marathoners  of their incredible experience and life as they know it, there are hundreds who did not hesitate to restore, to assist, to comfort those that stood in desperate need of comfort. It makes me want to cry, how wonderful people can be. It's so beautiful, how God created us with the basic instinct to help. And it only strengthens my testimony of how trial can be a blessing. This single awful incident created countless opportunities to serve and connect with each other on a level that is so uniquely human. While those who are suffering most from the tragic events of the marathon absolutely do not deserve these hardships, they have been blessed with the opportunity to grow. Or to fail, as is the nature of this life. We fought a great war in our premortal existence to experience such pain and overcome such challenges. We knew it would not always be pleasant, but we knew it would be worth it. Beyond worth it.

Stephen R. Covey said, "It's not what happens to us, but our response to what happens to us that hurts us. Of course, things can hurt us physically or economically and can cause us sorrow. But our character, our basic identity, does not have to be hurt at all. In fact, our most difficult experiences become the crucibles that forge our character and develop the internal powers, the freedom to handle difficult circumstances in the future and to inspire others to do so as well."

I pray that the victims of this tragedy will be blessed with the strength to overcome this tragedy, to let it forge their character and develop their internal power. I have faith in humanity, and I have faith that this will be for our good.