I've been listening to the Wailin' Jenny's CD 40 Days over Lent this year, and these lyrics from Heaven When We're Home have stuck: There's no such thing as perfect, / and if there is we'll find it when we're good and dead. Seeing Christ fall here helps me loosen my grip a little on prideful attitudes of perfection, and opens me up to confessing my times of falling down. I take comfort knowing how profoundly (Christ) understands my fatigue and my defeats.
She knows the sorrow in every mother's heart, who has lost a child to tragedy or violence.
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