Love Abides No Sundered World
When I write lyrics, one of two situations applies, namely either: 1) I wrestle for a couple of days or so (usually because I am having trouble finding a few words here and there, and nothing seems quite right), or 2) and I’m not even sure how to describe it, but it’s fast. The basic sketching and taffy-pulling can be much the same at first, but in the second case, at some point, the words just fly out.
And when that happens, it feels like it’s because there was something that was really just demanding to escape.
Well, this one came pouring out.
I was (and am) in a state of being enormously pissed off about the xenophobic bile being aimed at migrants, and certain people’s fear of pretty much anything else that is associated with difference and change. I work in the schools, and it churns my guts when I hear the ways in which some children have been taught to hate.
Well, I had been watching the movie “Spirited” with Camrin and Stacy, and I was thinking about how much I loved the message where there is not always a big fix, but it would be great if maybe we could each just do a little bit more. Just get even a bit closer. Every day. So I suggested that maybe I should write a Christmas carol.
And that notion coupled with a message that I had sent to leadership at the agency for which I work, begging them to be even the tiniest, teeniest, weeniest bit considerate of their employees, going so far as to offer to make them buttons saying, “Be the weeniest.”
So all of that is the escalated emotional context for this song. This is my Christmas carol, except it’s not specifically Christian. It’s more like a nostalgic, sentimental seasonal ballad.
And I am very happy that along the way, this particular title of the song emerged as a lyric. I out-and-out love that line.
Please believe that I am deeply aware that all too many children do not receive the gift of home when they are born, and it breaks my heart to tears to think about it. But this song is my prayer. To you.
Welcome to my home.
Lyrics
We all are born as strangers here
in welcome’s first embrace,
each newborn soul a traveler
in search of sheltered space.
And every door that opens wide,
makes neighbors of us all.
For love abides no sundered world,
no barriers at all.
Now, we can’t tell you who to be.
That choice is yours alone.
But welcome to our home.
You’re welcome like the starlight clear,
welcome like the dawn.
With every heart that opens up,
our family becomes strong.
When we invite our neighbors in,
from near or far away,
we honor the first birthday gift
that we received that day.
Our home.
Before they’re taught their barriers,
before they’re taught their fears,
our children see in wanderers,
the friends already here.
Beyond the walls and border lines,
live truths we've always known:
that everyone’s our neighbor, friend,
on this world we call home.
Now, we can’t tell you who to be.
That choice is yours alone.
But welcome to our home.
You’re welcome like the starlight clear,
welcome like the dawn.
With every heart that opens up,
our family becomes strong.
When we invite our neighbors in,
from near or far away,
we honor the first birthday gift
that we received that day.
Our home.
From distant corners far and wide,
right to our welc’ming door,
when every stranger turned to friend
will make our family more.
For love that we received so dear
when we were new and small,
lives deep in every neighbor's heart
and answers every call.
Now, we can’t tell you who to be.
That choice is yours alone.
But welcome to our home.
You’re welcome like the starlight clear,
welcome like the dawn.
With every heart that opens up,
our family becomes strong.
When we invite our neighbors in,
from near or far away,
we honor the first birthday gift
that we received that day.
Our home.
From strangers into family,
from darkness into light,
the gift of welcome given twice:
received when we invite.
Our home.
A home for all of us.