I commute regularly via Kings Cross Station in London, one of the locations of the 7 July 2005 bombings. We were out in Soho the night of the Admiral Duncan bombing and saw the walking wounded coming out of the end of the road. Suddenly our section of the world was a whole lot less safe. It could happen here. Because it has. A piece of knowledge that gets firmly tucked away in the part of the brain marked "Don't Go There". Because you do have to keep calm and carry on. But you hold that hand in yours a little tighter and give them an extra kiss. And you try to look for the people who are helping so you focus on good not evil.
I’ve walked streets the streets of Paris on French trips with school and long weekends with friends. I can imagine myself there. My thoughts are with all those who've lost loved ones or who's night-out turned into a nightmare and are recovering. That's not to say the other lives and other attacks elsewhere don't matter, it just that there is only so much I can process. I pray for the situations I know about and add a catch-all, "And anywhere else that needs it Lord .. Comfort those who mourn".
Politicians and others use situations like this to score points, advance their own agendas or justify their own prejudices. Hatred and bigotry never solved anything. Real Muslims are the guy at the corner shop, the lady at the bus stop who gets on more slowly when she sees me running so I'll make it, our friend's husband and my mates at work. People who are as saddened by this as everyone else and don't want to be lumped in with a small bunch of extremists. #notinourname. I'm also adding this photo as the people who do this are the people the refugees are running from. The death toll in Syria over the last few years is the equivalent of a Paris every few days.
We Weep, but We Do Not Fear
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