I sat with a group of friends and I wept. I heard a story of a young girl being taken advantage of by someone she should have been able to trust, someone who should have been a bulwark and shield for her. As the story unfolded, the revisiting of the horror through police interviews, medical examinations, the ensuing shame and confusion of a young girl, I sobbed silently behind my folded hands. I am the father of a daughter, which in some profound way that I don’t yet understand, makes me the father of all daughters, everywhere.

When I left the room, I found a piano, and wrote this song.

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Let Your Justice Roll
by Michael Lee

God of the undone
of the poor and the weak
The children of the broken
Rise up to meet you

We have heard it whispered
In the songs of your people
you make all things new

God of the undone
of the poor and the weak
The children of sorrow
Rise up to meet you

We have heard it whispered
In the songs of creation
you make all things new

Until the cups of your children run over
Until the sorrow of life is undone
Let the song of the earth be, “God most holy,
let your justice roll”

Let your justice roll down from heaven
Let your angels bear up the weak
may those who are broken
be mended and whole
God let your justice roll