I was surprised when I first saw the news about the Boston Marathon. At first I heard that maybe a dozen people were injured. I thought, “Oh, that’s weird. Two explosions? Were they bombs? Probably just some random malfunction. It doesn’t sound too bad…”
And as the evening wore on I realized that maybe it was worse than I thought. The next morning (my birthday), while curled up at Starbucks with my laptop and journal, I decided to flip through a photo essay of pictures. By the time I finished, I was nearly in tears. This wasn’t even a normal day for these people so suddenly attacked. For most of them, it was one of the most important days of their life.

The runners had been training for months, probably years. You can’t just up and run a marathon…and especially not the Boston marathon. You have to qualify for it. Not everyone qualifies the first time they try. This marathon, this race, was most likely a crowning achievement of a lifetime.

You have worked, sweated, sacrificed, planned, and dreamed of this moment for…who knows how long. And not just you. Your family, your friends. Although it may not be much, they sacrifice and support and encourage you. They dream with you, cheer you on, hold your hand and tell you not to give up.

And the day comes. They’re standing there excited, nervous…probably a bit bored waiting for you. They know your number, have signs made to encourage you, and search the faces of every runner coming into sight.

Then it happens. Two explosions. 12 seconds apart. Blood. Pain. Screaming. Injuries. Limbs broken beyond repair. For a few…death.
And you wonder…why?
Why us?
Why now?
Why today of all days?

Why did we do this in the first place? All the pain and sweat and tears and sacrifice to end up like this?

This isn’t how it’s meant to be. This shouldn’t be like this. We know that. But we can’t seem to stop it from happening.

My heart breaks and the tears flow and I search deep within to find words. The only thing that I can think is that this ISN’T how it is supposed to be. We were created for more.

And yet we live in a world, broken, stained with sin and destruction. The harder we fight and strive and strain for good the more we realize that so often end up adding to the sin and the pain and the hurt. We bring the brokeness with the very hands we are trying to use to bring good. Yes, maybe we bring some good, but can that outweigh the brokeness that our same two hands daily offer the world?

And my heart breaks again and the hopelessness would threaten to destroy, but I know that it is not in my own strength that I am fighting this battle. There is a Power greater that I have surrendered to. He has taken my sin and pain bearing hands and filled them with His power to bring good and healing. And these broken, bloodied hands can now bring hope to a broken and bloodied world.

A hope of forgiveness for the brokeness we bring into this world.
A hope of righteousness not our own that can never be taken away.
A hope of no more pain…no.more.pain.
A hope of a good tomorrow that will never end.
A hope of heaven.
A hope of being with our Lord and Savior…of seeing Him face-to-face.
A hope.
A hope in the knowledge that until that day, a Power far greater than me is working through me to do far greater good than I could ever imagine possible. Working through me to spread the hope and healing and freedom.

I hope this song blesses and encourages you with the reminder that someday there will be no more pain.

Be blessed
<3