Beautiful Dawn
(by the Wailin’ Jenny’s)

Take me to the breaking of a beautiful dawn
Take me to the place where we came from
Take me to the end so I can see the start
There’s only one way to mend a broken heart

Take me to the place where I don’t feel so small
Take me where I don’t need to stand so tall
Take me to the edge so I can fall apart
There’s only one way to mend a broken heart

Take me where love is not for sale
Take me where our hearts are not so frail
Take me where the fire still owns it’s spark
There’s only one way to mend a broken heart

Teach me how to see when I close my eyes
Teach me to forgive and to apologize
Show me how to love in the darkest dark
There’s only one way to mend a broken heart

Take me where the angels are close on hand
Take me where the ocean meets the sky and the land
Show me to the wisdom of the evening star
There’s only one way to mend a broken heart

Take me to the place where I feel no shame
Take me where courage doesn’t need a name
Learning how to cry is the hardest part
There’s only one way to mend a broken heart

So I’ve been feeling pretty broken these days, broken as in “needs fixin’,” broken as in “not whole,” broken as in “not solid,” broken as in “weak.” Weakness is not looked on favorably around here, not by Ugandans and certainly not by us Americans. This is the kind of place where you have to be at the top of your game all of the time…the top of your relational game, the top of your spiritual game, the top of your work game, the top of your cultural adjustment game, the top of your flexibility game…and if you’re not – well you had just better keep it to yourself because everyone else is trying their best to be at the top of their game and you not being at the top of yours just pulls them down too…or at least that's the way it seems to me...

But I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to “stand tall” as the song says. I’m tired of trying to be the name of courage. I’m tired of trying to ignore the shame and smallness that I battle against everyday here. I’m tired of trying to buy love from those around me. I’m tired of trying not to fall apart.

I want a place where it’s safe to be broken, safe to be weak. But until I learn to look for this love and acceptance in my Father in Heaven, who runs to me on the road, his prodigal daughter, and throws his arms around me, I will continue to wallow in my weakness. So I ask, “Teach me how to see when I close my eyes, teach me to forgive and to apologize, teach me how to love in the darkest dark.”