#PrayForBoston

I heart Boston.

We are hurting once again. We think we cannot possibly take anymore of this - and yet, here it is, in our faces, in our ears, on our minds, in our hearts. The violence. The bloodshed. The disregard for life.

This city that has never been my home, and yet feels like home each time I visit it;

This city with the passion of a thousand suns;

This city with such history, such beauty, such depth;

This city has been shattered, broken, left to bleed.

And we who listen to the news or dare to watch it, we are left bleeding, too, because we ache with them for safety and peace;

Because this city could be our city, our people, our friends, our family;

Because the horror is heavy and thick.

The psalmist wrote these words so very long ago, and here they are, with us today:

"How long must I bear pain in my soul,

and have sorrow in my heart all day long?"

(Psalm 13:2)

It's a fair question, I think, to ask of God - how long? How long must we bear this pain? How long will we be sorrowful? How long?

Is it too soon to speak of hope? As the injured lay in hospitals, as families receive news of their dead - is it too soon to speak of hope? Or is this exactly when we must speak of hope? Is this when hope gives us...hope? Can we, like the psalmist, begin to trust again in the steadfast love of God? Even when horror strikes us and grief dwells with us - again! - can we begin to trust again in the steadfast love of God?

For I am reminded - even in the depths of my own grief and fear and heartbreak - that the steadfast love of God endures forever. Not just when I see evidence of it. Not just when I feel it with me. Not just when days are sunny and free from pain. The steadfast love of God endures forever.

O God of enduring love, dwell with us now. Amen.