Bless The

Bless the broken home producing broken brothers and sisters who blame themselves for the brokenness.

Bless the rusty bicycle leaned haphazardly against the decaying wall of the garden shed, rear wheel deflated, front brake loose.

Bless the 4th step up to the second floor bedroom that squeaks so reliably every time my foot alights there.

Bless the box of Honey Nut Cheerios with only 7 Cheerios left in the bag. Man, I really was craving that sweet honey crunch…

Bless my 2002 Honda Civic – my very first car to call my own – with its two missing hubcaps (where did they go?) and the dented passenger side door from the grey Toyota Corolla that side swiped me while merging on I-495.

Bless my amazingly comfortable bed, with the silk soft sheets and fluffy comforter and the reversible duvet cover. It makes me so thankful to crawl into bed each night.

Bless the welcome mat just inside our front door, littered with helicopter seeds, pine needles, tiny pearls of gravel and gentle smears of mud brought inside with the soles of our shoes.

Bless the warm chocolate chip cookies my mom bakes without fail every time I go to visit her. She always makes sure to bake them the morning of my arrival so she can offer me the mixing spoon covered with irresistibly goopy batter to lick, bringing back vivid memories of my childhood doing just the same – screw salmonella…

Bless the washing machine that takes my ripe, damp, muddy, sunscreen and deodorant-streaked running tanks and shorts and transforms them into fresh, clean opportunities to get them dirty again and again…

Bless my scuffed-up running shoes with the blood stain on the right toe of the left shoe from that mysterious nosebleed during my 6 x 1k track workout last spring.