I dread the sound of his black shoes clicking on the cold stone floor in the church foyer. I sink down in my chair as I hear those steps going up the stairs to my office. I pretend to be engaged in some material as he awkwardly steps in. To congratulate me on bringing vegetables to youth, or asking me to see if his office looks nice enough to be on television.
But this isn't about him. I am weary. I am weary of religion. I am weary of people who think that one of these days Law will love them. I am weary of my own doubts and small boxes. I am dissapointed in my spinelessness and weakness of character. I am so weary for all people who are longing for change and can't see it anywhere. I am weary for those who cover their burnt dinners with, "life is a piece of cake!" I want to be hugged. I want to go for a quiet hike with David into a high valley of green. I want to be surrounded by a lack of expectation. I want to lay in green pastures with my shepherd. I want Jesus. Oh, I am weary.
I don't like pickleloaf. I don't like being defensive. I will take the rest of this day to listen to "pass me not" on repeat. If you could, and if you would, please listen on my behalf and share with me what Jesus tells you. Thank you.