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Monday, April 15, 2013

love is...

... looking in the eyes of a babe or child that depends on you.

... holding hands walking down an autumn lane.

...knowing that you have a Saviour who cares more about the broken person sobbing in disillusionment than the sin he regrets committing.

...telling your son, "F- you when he makes a joke about your favorite team.

...waiting for news of people who you don't even know who are suffering.

How sad that some idiot/s in Boston don't know what love is.

But they know what hate is.

Hate for themselves so virulent that they have to inflict the pain on others to feel.

Hate for whoever they blame their problems on rather than the man in the mirror.

I don't care if you are an Islamic fanatic hoping for your however-many virgins.

I don't care if you are a twisted mind who believes they hear voices.

I don't care if you are IRA, or ETA, or Tamil Tiger, or Posse Comitatus.

I don't care if you are a devout Christian who feels called to destroy an abortion clinic.

I don't care if you are the high school junior who pushed the freshman wimp down to make yourself feel big.

How can what you are or what you did make you feel as good as love would?

How is it that you look upon death and destruction as an accomplishment?

No love, no honor, no courage... not even intelligence.  Hate is the legacy you leave, the monument you've built.

A cold stone that people spit on.

Not worth having a name, not worth being known.

I'd rather seek love instead.



18 comments:

  1. Unfortunately, hate has been with us for a very long time. :-(

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  2. Tomorrow I will run, not 26.2 miles, but as many as I can, out of love... for an 8 year old boy I've never met.

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    1. Part of me would love to say, "See, I told you running would kill me!" And I will... because those bastards can't have my snark.

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    2. I ran 2 miles (walked another 1.5) today... then went to the doctor for my physical. Turns out I have calcium spurs and some other big word in my heel... but I ran anyway.

      And for the record... it was those standing on the side lines who were hurt, not the runners. The runners were "protected" by barricades.

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    3. But I run like a bystander...

      Sorry to hear about your big word...Foot pains e=really suck- especially when you're a leaner like me.

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  3. ...knowing that you have a Saviour who cares more about the broken person sobbing in disillusionment than the sin he regrets committing.


    That's very comforting.

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  4. Just before the bombs went off, those people were crossing their finish line. I think about the hours of training they put in, the early morning runs, time away from their families, dedication to eating right, etc. There was so much love as friends and families held up signs, clapped and shouted from the sidelines in support of their loved ones as they accomplished their goals. The bombs were such a painful contrast. I don't understand why anyone would do this. Such a vivid portrayal of good and evil.

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    1. Like I said, it's the same for all of them. Life means nothing, even their cause means little. Just a little demon that tells them to inflict pain. Running a spectrum that leads to people like this to the point that the demon is all they are.

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  5. CWM:
    If what you wrote isn't a recipe for a GOOD life (through love)...I really don't know WHAT is...

    As for hate?
    That speaks for itself just as readily, unforutnately.

    Excellent observations.

    You stay safe up there.

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  6. Love is the good people, who ran to the injured and suffering people.
    Hate is the coward who ran away.

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  7. It was all so senseless. So very very sad.

    Sending hugs and love xx

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