by Nichole Nordeman
Oh the days when I drew lines around
my faith to keep you out, to keep me in, to keep it safe.
Oh the sense of my own self-entitlement
to say who’s wrong, who won’t be long, or cannot stay.
Cause somebody somewhere decided we’d be better off divided.
And somehow, despite the damage done He says come:
There is room enough for all of us
Please come, and the arms are open wide enough
Please come, and our parts are never greater than the sum
This is the heart of the one who
stands before the open door and bids us come.
Oh the times when I have failed to
recognize how many chairs are
gathered there around the feast.
To break the bread and break these
boundries that have kept us
from our only common ground the
invitation to sit down if we will come:
Come from the best of humanity
Come from the depths of depravity
Come now and see how we need every
different beat on this same street.