Responsibility For The Ten

Responsibility For The Ten

We wake and shower and dress

We say our prayers before looking at the mess

We look at the messages from the ten

And wake up again… and begin

Bills on the table, phone in the hand

Another long day we didn’t plan

The ego screams, “Just take care of you”

But the heart remembers what it’s here to do

The mind wants quiet, comfort, escape

The path wants effort, connection, and faith

I want to run, disappear, pretend

But my soul is tied to the friends

When one is heavy, we all feel the weight

When one is late, we all learn to wait

No one escapes this invisible thread

We rise or we fall by the words that are said

It’s not about strength, wisdom, or skill

It’s showing up when you don’t have the will

A message, a prayer, a simple “I’m here”

Can pull a friend out of darkness and fear

The Creator hides in the space between

My broken heart and the ten unseen

I don’t fix them, I don’t know how

I just choose them—again—right now

Every problem that lands in my day

Is an invitation to relate

Not “Why me?” and not “Make it stop”

But “How do I carry the ten to the top?”

I fall, I forget, I drift, I complain

Then remember—this pain isn’t vain

It sharpens the need, exposes the lie

That I was ever meant to try alone and survive

Responsibility isn’t control or command

It’s holding a friend with an open hand

I cancel a little, I listen some more

And suddenly the heart finds a door

This is the work—no halo, no fame

Just loving the ten through joy and shame

And when I fail, which I surely will

I come back again… because that’s the deal