It's 10pm. I'm tired of pouring my heart out to you. I strive. I know they say I shouldn't, but I don't know the alternative. If I sit in silence it's the same. Nothing. A though here, a whisper there. I know it's you, God. But it's not enough.

I'm like the older brother to the prodigal son. I'm jealous of the new believers. You save those who've done nothing for you. You love leaving the 99 and going after the one, and I think that's beautiful my God. But I'm in the herd. I miss you. I know what your love is like; a flood that overwhelms my heart and sets me on fire. And I yearn, more than anything, to feel that again. Part of me is terrified that you're going to repay my years of complacency, of sin, with years devoid of your presence. I call out for you and you stand just around the corner, out of reach. That would be just. I know I've hurt you a lot, and if I were you it would be hard to extend my arms again.

But I know that's not you. You yearn to welcome children home, and I want to come home. So badly. Nothing else compares to you. The distractions, the sin that I filled my life with are gone, and I'm not going back. I know you are the God of love. I know your son Jesus died to show me how much you love me.

But I don't feel it, and that hurts my heart too. I wish I had years of sin that Jesus instantly set me free from. Then I'd have a testimony, a story of how God changed my life. But no, it's just love. I struggled to give my testimony today, once again as always. God didn't save me from homelessness, the man said. He needs money. He needs clothes. The government's watching him. All I could say is that God changed my life by showing me his love. It's true, and to me it will always be more spectacular, more beautiful, than anything else that he could have given me. But it's in the past, and I don't feel that anymore. I have nothing.

So I listen to sad music to cope. Music about eternity. I've often said it would be so romantic to die alone and only faintly experiencing the love of God because that would make eternity even more beautiful. But then I realize how arrogant it is for me to think that. I'm no spiritual diamond, I'm a man who can only take so much. I need God to save me over and over again, or I will die.

I've tried everything. I have learned so much about God, but the more I know the more abstract he becomes. I've traveled so many places, hoping to find some meaning, but it's all just more beauty, more perfection. I pray for hours, but the more I pray, the more I'm ashamed of my prayers. What words can one say to the God of heaven? I sit, struggling, going over thought after thought in my head. Perhaps a prayer of humility, a prayer of confession, a prayer of thanksgiving, a plea for mercy even? But it's just another sentence spoken from the mouth of a man who doesn't really know what he's saying.

If only there were someone to mediate between us, someone to bring us together. And just like that my only hope is Jesus. A man, like me, who lived a life like mine in a broken world.

I'm not going to overthink it. I cannot reach God, yet Jesus sits at his right hand and reaches out. I have never called out to Jesus before, authentically, without an alternative, from my heart. And I still don't understand his significance, his necessity. But I've realized nothing else I've tried has worked. I need Jesus.