When the news flash of a single headline “Bomb at Boston Marathon Finish Line” ran across my phone, I prayed and then chose to look later. Then this afternoon my oldest said, “Did you know there were bombs at the end of a marathon race in Boston?” To which I lied and said, “No. I didn’t.”
Why did I lie? I don’t know.
It was at that moment, just a few hours ago, that I realized that my son isn’t just getting crap from the radio in his room, but also news. And probably slanted news.
I talked about Steubenville with him. I started the conversation. I talked about Sandy Hook with him and Kelly Mae. I started the conversation. He talked about the marathon bombs. He started that conversation.
Another news flash, this time not across my phone, but across my heart and mind. It’s now time I begin to ask him what he has learned from beyond the day. From the radio. From the paper. And it’s OK.
And I will remind him that only cowards act with hate. And that he is always safe in Christ here and the hereafter.