Lord, Let My Brothers Be Seen
We can be fools in love,
and still know exactly what we’re doing
when we get out of bed aching
to put something warm on the table for you.
We talk about laying down our lives
for the people we love.
Sometimes love is quieter than that.
Sometimes it’s standing over the stove
when you’ve barely got the strength to stand.
Let us be men in the fullness of it.
Let us love openly. Let us be tender.
And when you see us trying, tell us.
Keep the gifts. Keep the money.
Sometimes all a man needs to hear is,
“I saw what it took for you to show up today.”
Lord, give me the strength to tell my brothers
they were made for more than pulling a load.
We get to laugh until our sides hurt.
We get to put our feet up without earning it first.
We get to say, “Brother, I’m struggling,”
and hear, “Come round. I’ll put the kettle on.”
Give us the grace to teach our daughters kindness
by letting them see us practise it.
Let them hear their fathers say, “I was wrong,”
and see us get down on our knees
to help pick up what we broke.
Hard times can make strong men.
They can make bitter men, too.
Lord, help me keep my heart
through everything I’ve had to carry.
I’ve suffered. I’ve sacrificed.
I’ve stood outside doors I was afraid to knock on,
and found enough breath to shout,
“I’m here. I’m still here.
And I’ve got more life to live.”
So to my brothers,
to any man sitting in the dark asking, “What’s the point?”
Don’t you dare give up on yourself tonight.
Ring somebody. Tell him how heavy it’s got.
Let him carry a corner of it.
Some days, brother, that’s how we fight.
We make the call. We let somebody in.
And when the morning comes, we’re here to see it.
