I'm listening to the news as the second Boston Bomber is being pursued.
A moment ago, the reporter mentioned that the father of these young men, who is in Russia, has been contacted. He described his younger son as incredibly bright... a second year med student. He was expecting his sons to come home soon for the summer holidays.
And then it struck me: the other side of this tragedy.
This father has lost a son, too. This father is half a world away, knowing one son is dead, and the other is in mortal danger. This father is dealing with the enormity of what his children have done.
There are two sides to every tragedy, and it is easy to forget the families of those who do evil as we focus on the victims and those who have been victimized.
I am not glad that the older brother is dead. I do not hope that the younger dies, either. I find no joy or satisfaction in any violent death. I long for justice, yes. But I also long for redemption, for a change of heart, for as many opportunities as possible for this man to receive with open arms the same grace and forgiveness as is offered to each of us.
These men did evil. But they are men. They were a mother's babies. They are someone's children, someone's nephews, someone's best friends.And I grieve for those who must live with what these boys have become.
Kyrie eleison. Lord, have mercy on us all.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Today I Planted Pansies
Today I planted pansies. This is, honestly, nothing out of the ordinary. I have planted pansies every year since I married and moved away from my parents' home. It is something of a tradition; my mother has always had pansies in memory of her mother, who always planted pansies.
My garden is one of my "happy places". I love the feeling of dirt in my hands, the smell of the rich soil, and watching as the things I plant grow and develop and flourish into beautiful flowers or tasty vegetables.
Last spring, I made the hard decision to not plant any annuals in my little backyard flower bed. My irises have become overgrown, and there really isn't much room in which to plant anything else. So I made the decision to simply let them be my garden last year, with the intention of digging them up late in the summer, discarding some, and replanting a few select bulbs. My pansies went into the large pots out front, around my large chrysanthemums.
It was a difficult spring for me, because my flower bed is a source of pride for me, so it was hard to see it looking ragged. Worse yet, because of the overcrowding of the irises, few of them bloomed, and the leaves looked wilted and holey. Beyond that, the children's sunflowers refused to sprout in their little garden, and my pansies out front failed to thrive and eventually died.
My untended flower bed became a constant source of irritation and sadness, yet I kept looking forward to the end of the summer, when I could dig up those bulbs, and make everything right for this year.
And then, in July, I discovered that lump in my breast, and everything stopped.
My summer became nothing more than endless rounds of doctors appointments. I was in a state of shock; complete emotional and physical inertia.
I underwent surgery in early autumn, and all chances of digging up the bulbs were lost for the year. Not only had I wasted my opportunity for a beautiful garden that year, I realized that this would also affect this year. My irises are still overcrowded. My garden is still overgrown.
Today I planted pansies. They were on sale at the store, 3 packs for $10. I couldn't resist! I bought two packs to plant out front in my large planters, with the hope that this year they will do better. The third pack is planted in my garden. Two little groups of three little purple pansies.
My garden is overrun with irises; there is very little room to plant anything else. Really, those two little pansy patches take up the majority of my free space. In fact, those little pansy patches may make it quite difficult to dig up those bulbs later this summer. But who knows what will happen today, or tomorrow, or next month that may keep me from digging up the overgrowth again?
It is a new year. A new spring. A new set of opportunities. And no matter what comes my way in the days ahead, at least I have my pansies.
My garden is one of my "happy places". I love the feeling of dirt in my hands, the smell of the rich soil, and watching as the things I plant grow and develop and flourish into beautiful flowers or tasty vegetables.
Last spring, I made the hard decision to not plant any annuals in my little backyard flower bed. My irises have become overgrown, and there really isn't much room in which to plant anything else. So I made the decision to simply let them be my garden last year, with the intention of digging them up late in the summer, discarding some, and replanting a few select bulbs. My pansies went into the large pots out front, around my large chrysanthemums.
It was a difficult spring for me, because my flower bed is a source of pride for me, so it was hard to see it looking ragged. Worse yet, because of the overcrowding of the irises, few of them bloomed, and the leaves looked wilted and holey. Beyond that, the children's sunflowers refused to sprout in their little garden, and my pansies out front failed to thrive and eventually died.
My untended flower bed became a constant source of irritation and sadness, yet I kept looking forward to the end of the summer, when I could dig up those bulbs, and make everything right for this year.
And then, in July, I discovered that lump in my breast, and everything stopped.
My summer became nothing more than endless rounds of doctors appointments. I was in a state of shock; complete emotional and physical inertia.
I underwent surgery in early autumn, and all chances of digging up the bulbs were lost for the year. Not only had I wasted my opportunity for a beautiful garden that year, I realized that this would also affect this year. My irises are still overcrowded. My garden is still overgrown.
Today I planted pansies. They were on sale at the store, 3 packs for $10. I couldn't resist! I bought two packs to plant out front in my large planters, with the hope that this year they will do better. The third pack is planted in my garden. Two little groups of three little purple pansies.
My garden is overrun with irises; there is very little room to plant anything else. Really, those two little pansy patches take up the majority of my free space. In fact, those little pansy patches may make it quite difficult to dig up those bulbs later this summer. But who knows what will happen today, or tomorrow, or next month that may keep me from digging up the overgrowth again?
It is a new year. A new spring. A new set of opportunities. And no matter what comes my way in the days ahead, at least I have my pansies.
