If I had said “Boston” to you anytime before the tragic events of last Monday you would have reacted in a myriad of different ways depending upon your connection with the city. I’ve never been there so that would have been one of the thoughts that would have jumped to my mind immediately. I’ve heard that the city streets are narrow and not configured in a grid layout. I probably would have said the word “Boston” in my best attempt at a local accent. A friend of my roommate moved back there some time ago. I like Boston Cream Pie yogurt.
And yet now we all have the same common reaction – a shared reaction to the unnecessary and purposeless loss of life during the Boston Marathon. As we learn the details of the explosive devices, the details of the lives of those who died that day, those that were injured, those that had limbs amputated, those that learned of the tragedy while still running the race, those waiting anxiously for their loved ones to call them, it’s so difficult to understand how anyone could conceive of such a thing and actually spend days and months planning it to the nth degree.
This morning we awoke to further deaths and destruction that occurred in Boston overnight as this tragic situation continues to play out
Like it or not, God said it best: Thou shalt not kill.