I want to read, this morning, from...No.You know what no one wants to talk about.Hate.I know all about hate.It starts in your gut,deep down here,where it stirs and churns.And then it rises.Hate rises fast and volcanic.It erupts hot on the breath.Your eyes go wide with fire.You clench your teeth so hardyou think they'll shatter.I hate you, God. I hate you!Oh, don't tell me you haven't said those words before.I know you have.We all have,if you've ever felt so crushing a loss.There are two parents with us todaywho know that pain,the most terrible hurt of alllosing a child before her time.If Dean and Leanne were to stand up right nowand scream those awful words of hate,could we blame them?I couldn't.At least their hatred I can understand.I can grasp it,
