What’s on my mind? All Lives Matter. Black Lives Matter. Of course all lives, in all their shades, matter. But what is the fundamental difference here? When my little munchkin comes home from school, sobbing and broken because a class bully gave her grief all day, I don’t hug her and tell her I love all my daughters. No. I hug her and tell her I Love Her. For all I can say, at that moment it’s her that matters. Her. Period. And that does not mean I love her sisters any less. It’s Jesus, thronged by a crowd, singling out Zacchaeus to come down from the sycamore tree, to go have dinner with him. It’s Jesus alone with the prostitute at the well, a sight that got Peter, Bartholomew and all the others raising eyebrows, and the religious and politically correct folks wagging tongues. No, Jesus didn’t love the crowds any less. He is the good shepherd who cares enough to leave the ninety-nine and go for the one sheep that needs attention. May be it’s time we dropped all high-sounding rhetoric, stood up from the rocking chair on the porch and crossed the tracks to the other side. What our neighbor needs the most is Affirmation and Love. Not a counter hash-tag.