The House.

Today work lead me into a home of a boy with Autism. The house was filthy. I threw up in my mouth, literally. I don't know if I have ever in my life felt so sick because of a smell. When I got in the car Miranda Lambert's "The House That Built Me" came on the radio. I cried.

The house that built me was clean. It fed me good fresh food. It tucked me in at night so tightly that not the fiercest bed bug or monster from the closet could get to me. The house that built me made sure that I hugged my parents and told them that I love them. It saw me mess up, but no matter what it made sure that there was forgiveness and love. And when it was cold it always made sure that I had a big mug of hot chocolate.

This house doesn't do that. In that house, the bed bugs do bite. The closets shouldn't even be opened, they can't be trusted. There are no hugs, hardly even a "Hello, how was your day?" When hot chocolate is made, it sits on the counter for weeks, stains the mug and gathers unwelcome guests.

I cried in the car. I cried when I got home. I'm crying now (the very last episode of the Oprah Winfrey Show is on). I wondered what Oprah would say if we sat down and talked about it. But that is silly because I know what she would say. "When you know better, you do better." That broken home doesn't know how to build, how to renovate, how to love. I hope that I can put love there, if not me than may that seed be planted by someone else.

I hope that in the heart of every home love can be found. Father, thank you for providing me with a home that built, and still builds even after I am gone. I pray that others would be blessed to know the home that I was raised by.

The Thoughts.

I know that there are thousands of thoughts swirling around about Osama Bin Laden's death yesterday, so I will only say these 2 things.

First: I cannot believe it was nearly a decade ago that my 15 year old mind was discovering the 'post-9.11' world. For months my pen filled my journal with thoughts of the world that I knew collapsing. I knew people who died, my parents were close to people who died. But some how over time that all went away. Those feelings come back on occasion, most often on September 11th. But they are back today on May 2nd, 2011. Others are finding justice in the death of the leader of Al-Qaeda but all I think of is this -

Second: "I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." - Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

I cannot be happy, but I cannot be sad either. I think I am content today. Everything is okay.