i want to run. but i ache with weariness. and i want to be transparent. but i hate the feeling of exposure. when someone can look in my eyes and truly distinguish what i am thinking, what i am feeling, what i am longing to say. i want to be grateful. and i am. but there is always this residing thought of something i do not yet have. there is always a lingering desire for something my arm can’t reach. i want to focus. but so many things demand my full attention. to give myself freely would be a great accomplishment, but can i please do it at arms length? i wish i had the boldness i see in others-in word, deed, and love-but there is a residing fear. a little girl still resting in me that has always been suppressed in word, deed, and love. so i will conjure up the conversation i wish we had-the confrontation i backed out of-the calling out i know should happen-the offer of prayer i should have given-the act of service i neglected. what difference would these things make? a huge one. not just one, but many differences-for the sake of loving others and myself better. but it seems to be a desperate truth that, the more i think about these things, the less i know what to do.