I was getting ready to post yesterday about some of the beautiful finds I discovered in "hopping" around the second reveal when the news broke in Boston. I certainly didn't feel like writing and was sure no one would be interested in reading anything.
Today, I still don't feel like writing -- typically this would be "Tuesday's Tanzania" where I share about our trip to visit son Andrew -- in a place that honestly, sometimes I worry about him...not so much in Tanzania, but when he travels for work - to Uganda, Rwanda, and to Kenya, which these days is not always a quiet place. And so, yes, as a mom, I worry...sometimes. But, now, a powerful reminder, I shouldn't worry about Andrew. The threat, the terror, the horror, the unfathomable, the unexplainable, the nightmare isn't across the ocean, in a faraway, foreign country - it is here. It is in our country. It is in our city, in our neighborhood, in our traditions. It is here. We are here. And as an FBI agent said this afternoon, "Someone knows who did this."
Someone here, here among and with us, knows who did this. I shouldn't worry anymore about my son. I should pray for Bill Richard who lost his young son, Martin, and whose wife and daughter were critically injured in yesterday's bombings. "Someone knows who did this."
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