January 8, 37

It is cold. We're all hungry, dirty, embarrassed and poor. Frankly, I'm close to being done with all this. It's either feast or famine with this guy - crowds one day, empty graveyards the next; miracles and praise one day, getting run out of town on a rail the next. What kind of messiah is this? What kind of resistance movement, or holiness movement, or... anything, are we starting here?

I've spent too many nights away from my wife, my children haven't had a father or food for two years now... and if this is all for naught... I can't do this anymore.

I am beginning to hate him. I can't rely on him to lead or even to give us direction, let alone food or shelter or an occasional bath! Hell, I'd be able to forgive failure if we had something we were definitely working for, if we had a concrete vision. But all we've been doing is wandering around - sometimes moving people, sometimes not, but not gaining any momentum or gathering any forces, not organizing or mobilizing people. We're no closer to seeing Zion freed than when we started - and I'm sick of it.

But I'm still here.

Why?

Honestly, I don't know. I'd hate to say it was just habit now; or that I can't face my family or friends again after having run out on them and abandoned them for two years now. But is that all? Is that all?

It may be feast or famine, but the feasts are so good - at times it seems that people around him could do anything. We really could change the world! Even if that doesn't hold - there's something there. Something I can't so easily leave - even if I don't always believe.

Written recently as an exercise in Seminary.