Sometimes the unthinkable happens. Bombs drop. Guns fire. Bridges collapse. Trucks hit children.
Sometimes these unthinkable horrors are far away, in nations and places that we can scarcely imagine. And sometimes, the horror happens right down the street, in a place that we know, on a sidewalk where we stood just the week before.
Yesterday as I drove home from church, I passed a small, murky pond that sits next to 495. As I whizzed passed the spot, I caught a glimpse of a familiar sight: two Canada Geese standing at attention, with a gaggle of fluffy, yellow goslings around them. They were back-- in the very same spot as last year. And once again I gasped at how astonishingly vulnerable they were, so close to the highway, so close to enormous metal machines moving very fast.
We are no less vulnerable.
And sometimes the horror of our vulnerability is right down the street, horror that we cannot make sense of, horror that has no meaning and no reason.
Let us pray for the family of the child killed in Andover yesterday; the arc of their lives is forever altered. Let us pray for the truck driver who is forever changed. Let us pray for the witnesses, first responders, and ER staff who will carry this trauma. Let us pray for all of us who must face the unthinkable.
God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble with its tumult.
Psalm 46
