© 2013 PixelJo

Time is always moving…

This past week, time stood still for the City of Boston, and surrounding towns. Suburbia watched, glued to televisions, as police, SWAT, FBI, and heaven knows what other law enforcement teams, executed a manhunt not seen, ever. The sheer cost involved is a mind bender. While this went on, the populace of Eastern Mass was still. We went about our day, but if there was a radio playing, or a television on, we were, for the most part, just going through the motions. Our interest lay with the sound waves, and the video broadcasts. We learned about the hunted; their interests, their hobbies; who they went to school with, their citizenship status, where they were from. For most of us, this has been at the forefront of our minds. Catch the criminals.

For others, life moved forward. For one such family, life moved forward way too fast. Admittedly, I do not know the family personally, and perhaps that takes away my right to speak of them, but I will do so, without naming names, to protect their privacy and maintain their anonymity.

Imagine, if you will, a young boy, full of life. And imagine how, at the age of 6, he could be diagnosed with a horrible form of cancer. Now, a year later, he is home on hospice care, with his family and closest friends surrounding him. Sure, I’ve just summed up the mother’s worst nightmare in two sentences. But, I cannot even imagine what the family must be going through. I cannot even begin to describe the pain and emotion the family has felt during this experience. The decision to spend his final days in the comfort of his own home were made during the manhunt taking place in Boston.

So the real question is…for whom did time stand still? Was it for this family, who, while I’m sure will someday look back and think that they vaguely remember being around for the manhunt? Or was it speeding forward for them, far more quickly than they could want? Or was it still for the rest of us, who focused on whether it was martial law to shut down the city and surrounding towns (in an unprecedented move) to flush out the young man in question?

I don’t really have an answer to this question. But I think, I will pray for the family mentioned above, with all my heart. I will pray for peace to settle in the little boy’s soul, and for the parents and sibling(s) to find peace with the idea that God has decided to call this little boy home – a sentiment that can never, ever ease the pain of loss they are about to experience. And then, I will thank God the other young man has been caught – and pray he can be redeemed; that he can feel remorse.

If a seven year old boy doesn’t really get to choose when he goes, why should someone else get to choose when others go?


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