Divided

Sometimes I feel divided.

For I lead a double life,

Though I have a single paycheck

And I have a single wife.

I am a missionary

At home in Ma-la-wi.

And I am a North American

At home with family.

When I am there, I am not here

And no one understands

What life is like for me at home

In this impoverished land.

When I am here I am not there

And no one comprehends

What life is like for me at home

With family and friends.

Yet I’m at home, there is no doubt,

Though half a world apart.

Both America and Africa

Lay claim upon my heart.

Perhaps it’s there my double life

May one day be united.

For only love can make as one

These places long divided. 

Paul Heller