But sometimes words are all we have -- sometimes words are the things that tether us to the hope that there is still good in this world.
Within days of my brother's death, friends from around the world rallied together and supported me in ways they will perhaps never know.
Several of those friends sent me this plant, along with a note that read:
"Like this plant encased in glass, so we envelope you with love and send prayers from around the globe, for your peace and encouragement..."
Every time I see that plant,
I am reminded of those words of comfort.
I am reminded that I have friends who care, friends who love me, and friends who, although they may not understand exactly what I'm going through, are sharing in my grief with me.
I don't know all of the people affected by the tragedy in Boston. I do know that I have been to Boston before and loved it. Former work colleagues live there. I know people who have run in that same marathon before. I have a friend who was called back into work yesterday, in order to organize hospital logistics for the wounded.
I know that right now, the grief that Boston feels is very real. I also know that people around the world care and are praying for the city, the victims and their families, and those affected by such an act of violence.
I wish I had the right words for Boston right now, but I don't. But I hope they somehow feel comfort in knowing that so many people care -- and that so many of us send prayers from around the globe.