A line that kept resounding for me in the reporting of the Boston Marathon bombings was, referring to first responders, "They ran into the fire."
Apparently it's a line from an episode of The West Wing, which somehow I haven't watched yet.
But yesterday, dozens and dozens of people did just that.
There were many medics and assistance professionals already on site for the Marathon, so it's not surprising that they were readily there and that their training took over when the unexpected attack occurred.
But there were also many, many others who were ordinary bystanders, who did what needed to be done. They, also, ran into the fire.
Far away in Texas, my initial reactions and actions to the bombings were:
1) manically scour news reports...
2) force self to stop doing that and to breathe...
3) feel sad and hopeless and like the world is useless and why live here any longer; cry...
4) wait for an online RGBP board meeting called for 8 pm my time...
5) wish that I could ditch the meeting and go to bed, lose myself in a book, but I was the online convener...
6) color and pray...
7) attend the meeting. Laugh. Discuss serious matters. Discuss visionary visions. Battle technical difficulties. Feel blessed to be in the midst of a group in ministry.
8) realize that these folks are, daily, running into the fire, in the pursuit of what they are called to do...
9) realize that I want to find out what running into the fire looks like for me.
As I've said many times, as an Enneagram 9 I'm not constitutionally the most likely to run into any fires. Rather, the opposite. But, there comes a time.
I want to have the courage. I don't know what it will look like, but it is something.
