I just keep getting tired.

Tired of waiting to see if I’ve done enough.

Tired of trying to be good enough.

Tired of straining to hear the stillest, smallest voice.

Tired of scanning for absent sensation.

Tired of being scared.

Tired of balancing. It’s a core workout!

Tired of sifting.

Tired of hiding.

I fall into these pits of ennui with the questions echoing around me

“Why don’t I know?”

“Why can’t I feel it?”

“What      is         even            the point”

Some days my desire to stay is ladder enough to get me out. Some days it isn’t.

I hear the seminary answer in my head. I know what leaders and concerned parents and old white men on the pulpit would say. And they’re probably right!

“This is what it means to endure to the end.”

I just hope this tank has enough gas

or that I find a gas station along the way.