November 18th, 2022 – 7:57pm – Haifa Hostel, Haifa, Israel:

There are nights like this one where the journey is too much for me. Where God is quiet. The night around me is filled with distant sounds of a foreign city in a foreign country far from anything or anyone familiar. And tears fall down my cheeks as memories of home flood my mind… no memories of my childhood… the last time I felt truly part of my family. Of Christmas in Oregon… when I was 8… of the presents under the tree and of my family all together… one by one opening gifts… the last time I felt part of any family…

What a long road I’ve travelled… what twists and turns… what loves and losses… what experiences… what triumphs and failures… what a life lived. Everyone one I meet cannot believe I am 40 years old… they think I’m 30… I have to laugh… if only they knew how many lives I’ve lived. How many loves I’ve had… home many heartbreaks…

Today I went and washed my clothes. No one to wash them for me. And then I went to the university to try to study… but it was closed… so I went to lunch alone… and then went to a movie alone… you’d think I’d be use to being alone by now… use to the quiet and the stillness of my own company. I made dinner alone… ate alone… curled up in bed alone… alone. Alone. Alone. I’ve been alone for sure a long time now. And weary. Worn down. Tired. Tired to the core.

Do you think God knows how very tired I am? I wonder if He cares… about how I feel? I wonder what God thinks about when I think of my car. Or when I think of my house. Or when I think of my PlayStation 5? Or when I think of my exes. Or of my computers… all the games I use to design and how much I loved to do it. I wonder what He thinks of me when I lay here missing all the things I’ve loved… and lost. Perhaps He should turn me to a pillar of salt. It would be only fair.

I’m scared you know… no… maybe scared isn’t the word for it. Tired. Yes… tired. Worn down and weary of this long endless journey to only God knows where…

I don’t think I have too much left to give… beginning to just wonder the streets aimlessly… why am I here again? Who am I? Where am I? Why Hebrew?

Do you know how hard it is to learn a foreign language when you lose all motivation to do so?

I would say, “I want to go home.” But then I remember I have no home. No home. No car. No laptop. Nothing. I have nothing…

The endless trusting for my next bed and meal is taking its toll. People call it “living by faith”… I wonder though… I just wonder. Can man really live by “every word that proceeds from the mouth of God”? …Or do we need a family, job, and house… to motivate the next breath?

I think of my brothers, the prophets… and I get it… I really get it. It’s nothing they chose. They didn’t wake up one day and say, “I am going to be a prophet.” And God was like ok, “You’re my prophet now.” No… God chose them.

The German girl asked me, “Do you like being a prophet?” And I honestly replied, “No.” “Do I like where I am?” “No.” “It sounds like your calling is a heavy burden.” “Yes, it is. I’ve tried to run from it my whole life.” “Can’t you just tell God you don’t want to be a prophet anymore?”

“Hmmm…”

Everything.

That’s what it costs to follow Him.

Everything.

Everyday. In every way. Everything. Nothing less than… everything…

I wish I was more…

Zealous?…

Righteous?…

Perfect?…

Christian?…

The truth is I’m just a little boy still… a little boy who doesn’t understand.