Some days I am thin-skinned.
Some days I am fragile like a tea kettle on the edge of a precipice.
Some days the air in the common room is thick like peanut butter in summertime.
Some days the lies come rushing, so sneaky and subtle that I don't catch them till they have put down their nasty little roots and are already chopping at the oak trees in the river.

Some days at work, God puts music into my head.

Dwell in the midst of us
Wipe all the tears from our faces
Dwell in the midst of us
You can have Your way,

so we pour out our praise pour out our praise,
it's your breath in our lungs…

Some days.