After nearly forty weeks in the wilderness of the global pandemic, after the unrest of racial injustice and protests, after a contested election divided the nation, a consistent theme resonates from our hearts. More than frustration, more than anger, more than even fear, I hear people voice their weariness. “I am tired.” I am tired of my kids missing the normal life of birthday parties and ballgames. I am tired of my kids worried about whether their skin color will end up sentencing them to death. I am tired of partisan politicians hypocritically saying one thing but then the opposite when it serves their political self-interest. I am tired of masking my face and distancing myself. I am tired of thousands of people dying from a virus we can’t see and can’t seem to control. I am tired of wondering whether and whence my next paycheck. I am tired. We just passed Thanksgiving, and the holidays press in with tidings of more work, stress, financial concern. We are tired. We are weary. Our world is weary.