I often write to say what I need to hear, a grasping after slippery truths. Thankfully, I'm rarely the only one saying them. I have been strengthened by many writers and songwriters, and I'm grateful to call some of them my friends. Some of my friends are neither, and yet often have the words I need.
Andrew Peterson is my favorite songwriter. He would probably say that Rich Mullins should be my favorite, but I can't help what rings the bells inside of me. I didn't pick him from a list of options - I just realized one day what he was. Andrew's songs have voiced struggles I felt were peculiarly mine, and truths that I longed for in quiet desperation. Time and again, they have caused a sudden catch and release deep inside my chest, as if my soul had been holding its breath without my knowing it.
After writing (and needing to read) my recent essay about having a healthy perspective on our shortcomings (Bloodied Heroes), I can't resist sharing this new Peterson song, "Be Kind To Yourself," on the same topic.
Andrew said, "I wrote this for my daughter, and the day I sang it for her I realized it was for me, too."
Me too, Andrew. Me too.