Cantor Confidential

I cannot pray on other people's behalf and I do not presume to write a prayer for anyone other than myself. Yes, as a Jew my traditional prayers are usually in the plural - we, our, us - but for right now, my prayer is my own.

Dear God, my anger is mixed with sadness and fear. 
I know that unjustified and unfettered anger and fear are potentially emotionally dangerous and damaging to my soul, however right now my anger and fear are equally appropriate to my sadness. 
And so I pray:
Guide me in directing my anger at the right source: at the people who perpetrated evil, deliberately targeting for maximum devastation and loss of life. Guide me in channeling my anger into positive energy, finding ways to help support people whose lives were changed forever in yesterday's events. 
Guide me in keeping my fear for myself and the people I love from ballooning out of proportion to the point that I isolate and fearfully avoid living life to the fullest. 
Help me keep my sadness in check…

Making sense of the Boston Marathon bombing is like wading through mud.

I love Boston. I spent vacations bouncing around Boston when my sister's family lived in a suburb. It's a great city, and my husband and I spend time there each year. Hell, I even like the MTA (which automatically designates me as a non-Bostonian), even if I - like Charlie - usually get lost. Boston was safe territory for me ("Combat Zone" be damned). And now it's not. It has joined New York City and pretty much every city in Israel.

My husband ran the NYC Marathon a few times. He never tried for Boston because it was THE marathon for the real runners. I never ran a race, much less a marathon, but as a spectator, I know what it's like to hang out near the finish line area at the 4+ hour mark waiting for a loved one to seemingly crawl across the line. That's about the time that the rest of the pack starts coming through, the runners who deserve all the applause and cheers for their det…