still Boston's best day

SO many thoughts rambling through my mind in the past two days... it's been hard to know what to do with them.

 Last night I had a hard time falling asleep.  I know I wasn't alone.

 First of all, know that our day yesterday was WONDERFUL.

Race day was enjoyed by both participants and spectators.

 We enjoyed Boston's best day as a family at the marathon;

we sat curbside at mile 19 with a great group of friends, reveling in the excitement of the day.

 We felt inspired by the thousands and thousands of racers who wheeled and ran past and did our best to encourage them along the course.

Boston's marathon is truly inspiring: blind runners are guided along the course, groups run for amazing causes, the disabled are pushed and pulled by loved ones, barefoot and sandal-toed they come

costumed runners race as hot dogs, super heroes,

as hamburgers, in tutus and wigs,

 painted red, as caped Spartans with armor and spears, in pink and tuxedo, 

Scottish flags, Team Hoyt... it's all part of Boston's best day.

I know we're not alone in our love for the Boston Marathon--

it's an amazing race; an event that brings together people from all over the world.  There isn't a block of curb along the marathon route where people aren't clapping and cheering.  Boston brings out her best welcome and shines bright as host on a day known to all as one full of happiness and camaraderie.

 After five hours of partying and cheering road-side, we decided to pack it up and head home. There were still runners on the course and we could have cheered for a few more hours.

 It had been a fantastic day.  That was just after 2:30 pm.  We got a phone call on the drive home that changed everything.  We spent the afternoon trying to digest what we had learned, and checking in with family and friends who wanted to know that we were safe.  At home we turned off the television and radio.  We talked about it at dinner, again in the evening and had prayer together before bed.  I was reminded of the quote by Fred Rogers:

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”

Boston is a city of helpers.  The helpers were everywhere all at once doing what they could to make a terrible thing hurt less.  I'm grateful for the people of Boston who don't have to think before they rush to the aid of their fellow men.  I'm also grateful for a nation who rushes in with a heartfelt show of support.  It makes me happy to know that no matter how much bad happens, the good always outweighs the bad.  Good trumps evil.  EVERY.TIME.