I’m thick headed.
I’m insanely beautiful.
But I digress.
I think God knew that I was going to be that way. Rather than just spell it all out for me in plain English He sends other people to touch my life and one of them was Michael McLean.
Never met the dude.
But I’m a fan.
Mostly because he got through my thick skull.
Mr. McLean is a very talented song writer whose music touches me and generally brings me to tears or to my knees-both are common responses to his work. There is one song that will likely follow me to the grave. I heard it once years ago and haven’t forgotten even a word of it since, “Which Part is Mine.”
The song takes a young girl through motherhood with the constant struggle of not being sure which part is hers and which part is belongs to someone else; her singing partner, her husband, and then she hits a moment in life where she realizes the struggle is bigger than that.
Which part is mine?
Which part is yours?
Can you tell me one more time, I’m never quite sure.
Then I won’t cross the line,
Like I have before.
But it gets so confusing sometimes.
Do I do more or trust the divine?
Can you please, tell me which part is mine
And which part is yours.
Sometimes the line is so blurry. I mean-do I just have faith that things will work out if I let go and let God or do I need to exhaust every option first with my own sweat and tears? I find myself often whispering those words “which part is mine and which part is yours” late at night in earnest, hoping to see clearer where the line is.
I want to intervene in any situation I think I can make a difference. I want to shield our kids from the horrors of the world. I want to help people through circumstances that I don’t think they can handle on their own. All noble desires. But there’s a limit. And there are boundaries. I have a part, but it’s only a part of a very large picture.
I’m still not sure.
And I’m VERY stubborn.
But the more I ask, the clearer it becomes.