If I were being honest, I’d tell you that I’m slowly losing hope and motivation. If I were being honest, I’d tell you that I want to retract every public statement I’ve made about starting a nonprofit just so no one would keep me accountable. I’d tell you that my heart is overwhelmed and frightened. I’d tell you that the more research I do, the more acutely aware I become of my incompetence, my incapabilities, my shortcomings.
If I were being really honest, I’d tell you that I’ve considered numerous times in the last month picking a different cause, a different career, a different life. I’d tell you that all I want is a romantic, light, and airy life-dream like my friend’s: to travel and write and fall in love. I’d tell you that I wish I could forget the issue of sex trafficking; I’d tell you that I wish there weren’t brothels in the very city I live in so that I can enjoy my sunny walks around Old Town without thinking about that brothel five minutes away where a girl loses a piece of her innocence and worth each night.
If I were the most honest, I’d tell you I don’t want to care anymore.
I don’t think I’m strong enough. I know I’m not strong enough. I’ve barely even gotten my feet wet yet my heart is threatening to collapse. How ever will I survive for the rest of my life, immersed in their world, seeing their suffering, tasting their pain? I feel broken, confused, alone. So very alone. And I simply don’t want to care anymore. I want to go back to the days when I dreamed about owning my own little wedding planning business. I want to get married, have babies, and run my little company. I want a simple, easy, risk-free life. I don’t want the response to my life-dream to be, “Oh that’s dangerous, they’ll kill you.” I want safety and simplicity.
But He won’t let me. And since I’m being honest, I’ll tell you that it aggravates me to no end that He won’t let me. But what good is it trying to wage an intellectual battle against the person who gave you your mental faculties?