It's over.

On Monday my city was attacked.

On Wednesday I watched as the federal courthouse was evacuated for a bomb threat, literally right outside my office window.

On Friday Bryan and I woke to the news that we were on lockdown, that one suspect had been killed and police were searching for the other IN OUR TOWN. 1.5 miles FROM OUR HOUSE. We stayed inside all day, beautiful weather outside notwithstanding, windows and doors shut and locked against whatever evil may be lurking outside, kids restless, trying to stay informed while trying to shield them from what was happening.

And then we found out that the two suspects lived just a couple of blocks from the place we lived in while we were in graduate school. They went to high school just down the street from there, in our direction.

When the police gave the all clear, we - along with a few neighbors - went outside to get some air. And then we heard helicopters. And then someone from across the street told us we should go back inside, that there were shots fired again. And we hunkered down, terrified again, watching the news, until we rejoiced with our town, with our city, with our country, that he was caught.

It goes without saying - but we will certainly say it anyway - that we are incredibly thankful for the law enforcement officials who worked tirelessly to find these guys, to neutralize them. And we are incredibly heartbroken for the loss of life, injuries, and fear that these two men caused.

There is a jumble of emotion inside me at this moment - relief, sadness, anger, fear, thankfulness. But I don't think I could put it into words right now even if I tried.

Right now I am trying to focus on what I know to be true - that even though we are weak, as Eden so aptly put it today: "Nothing can hurt God. Even if a balloon pops in his nose!!"