For those of us who are broken and love broken people

All My Favorite People by Over the Rhine All my favorite people are broken Believe me, my heart should know Some prayers are better left unspoken I just want to hold you and let the rest go

All my friends are part saint and part sinner We lean on each other, try to rise above We are not afraid to admit we are all still beginners We are all late bloomers when it comes to love

All my favorite people are broken Believe me, my heart should know Awful believers, skeptical dreamers, step forward You can stay right here, you don’t have to go

Is each wound you’ve received just a burdensome gift It gets so hard to lift yourself up off the ground But the poet says we must praise a mutilated world We’re all working the graveyard shift You might as well sing along

Cause all my favorite people are broken Believe me, my heart should know As for your tender heart, this world’s going to rip it wide open, It aint gonna be pretty, but you’re not alone

All my favorite people are broken Believe me, my heart should know Awful believers, skeptical dreamers, you’re welcome Yeah, you’re safe right here, you don’t have to go

Cause all my favorite people are broken Believe me, I should know Some prayers are better left unspoken I just want to hold you and let the rest go

Some days

I love this song.*  I like the beat, the unapologetically full-voiced declarations and the many-voiced chorus.  But I also like this song because I understand the angst of being pulled between two parts of myself. Some days I'm caught between the beauty of a this recent global vision, where those without voices can finally be heard, and between the voices of those next door.

Some days the words on the screen are a cacophony and I feel my spirit shrinking a little into the sense that I'm not doing enough.  I'm not serving enough. I'm not writing enough. I'm not loving my children enough.  I'm not disciplining them enough.  I'm not strong enough.  I'm not meek enough.

Some days I listen to those I don't know and I ignore the knock at my door.

That's the pity of my excess.  Why can't I love where I'm needed and support those who love where I cannot? Why can't I weep for the women and children in the Congo and care for my hurting neighbor?

Some days I cannot do both.  Somedays I don't have the heart for it.  Maybe my spirit is too selfish.  Maybe no one has the heart.

Some days I do.  When I let go of that which I cannot control.  When I dig deep and turn to face my church, my neighbor, my community, my family, the widow, the orphan and the stranger down the street. When I seek to know where God is creating new things in me rather than wishing He'd do it a little more like He does it in someone else.

But those days are covered with intentional prayer, with action, and with the force of my own will, all the while hoping for a will that's not my own.  Thy will be done.

Some days I know what I stand for.  Those are the days that God and those around me keep my legs strong.

*there is strong language in this song