and i strip away the laughter, the smile, the joking and the wildness, and sink into a chair.
deeper than its depths of fabric i sink into my thoughts.
i’m tired.
but the strain goes deeper than muscle ache and heavy eyes.
the burden lies in stranger places than where headaches scream and bones creak.
i find it within my soul.
that mess of emotion, thought, and will.
that chaos of desire and discipline.
o my soul, why are you so weary?
and my soul cries out with answer likely to be forgotten, yet pleading to be grasped.
i’m tired of pretending.
i’m tired of pretending that i don’t see the brokenness around me.
i’m tired of being too afraid to speak out against evil.
i’m tired of being too fearful to stand up and tell people that i have the answer.
i’m tired of truth being sought, and then despised for not being what it should be.
i’m tired of the father of lies weaving his web of deceit and folly throughout this sleeping world, entangling the old and the young in the same old guile.
i’m sick of little girls not being told they’re beautiful just the way they are.
i’m tired of little boys not being told that they’re strong and courageous, and have something other than sex and money to fight for.
i’m tired of fathers becoming complacent and not leading.
i’m tired of mothers backstabbing and tearing down their husbands.
i’m tired of families being torn apart by adultery, pornography, and finances.
i’m tired of being told that adultery is funny, and that porn is harmless.
i’m tired of joking about prostitution, laughing about drugs, and mocking rape, when these things are destroying human beings all around me every single day.
i’m tired of hook-ups being glamorized and the empty party lifestyle being romanticized.
i’m tired of seeing a woman’s body used to sell clothing, cars, entertainment, burgers, or gasoline.
i’m tired of watching murder be glorified, and the value of human life shrink bit by bit every day.
i’m tired of walking inside a church and worshiping my Savior, only to go outside in the world and have my worship cease as soon as the music stops.
i’m tired of being told to care about my country more than i care about my neighbor two houses down or the homeless guy on Chestnut Street.
i’m tired of not seeing more healings.
i’m tired of not seeing more miracles.
i’m tired of hearing more from the church about this election than any other current human rights issue going on in the world right now.
i’m tired of fighting battles in my head and pretending they’re not there.
i’m tired of pretending like i don’t just desperately want someone to tell me that i mean more to them than anything else in the world.
i’m tired of wanting that.
i’m tired of being scared that people will love me for a time and then leave me.
i’m tired of being scared that i don’t truly love the people i say i do.
i’m tired of doubting my every thought.
i’m tired of people not being real, honest, or vulnerable.
i’m tired of being honest with people and not receiving honesty back.
i’m tired of people complaining about other people.
i’m tired of the games, the hints, the sly comments here and there that offer but a hint of what we might think about someone.
i’m tired of talking about people and not ideas.
i’m tired of listening to everyone’s opinions about my life.
i’m tired of needing to listen to everyone’s opinions about my life.
i’m tired of regretting the past.
i’m tired of obsessing over the future.
i’m tired of not being content in the present.
but most of all, i’m tired of Unlove.
for it is not hate, but Unlove that drives evil deeper into the hearts of men,that persuades discourse further into the unions between brother and brother, country and nation.
Unlove does not say i hate you, but it does not say i love you.
it is the fence between the meadow and the woods.
it is the negative space between heaven and hell.
it is grey.
it is undecided.
it cannot commit to love, but it cannot commit to hate either.
it leaves its receiver wondering, “am i loved?”
if it was love, there would be no such question.
but if it was hate, there would be no such question either.
but Unlove is a apathetic evil, carelessly singing great songs but denying their beauty, giving a warm embrace but refusing to stay.
it is a wedding without vows, a boat without sails, a bird without wings.
it has all the appearance of love but denies its power.
it is the line between mere affection and true love.
and on that line many of us sit, afraid to love, afraid not to.
and i am tired of it.



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