He LOVES the UNLOVED

Script-1

My Father's Love

They say you can't miss what you never had, but I say they're wrong. My parents divorced when I was just one, and growing up without a definitely left a painful void in my life. Even though I'd never known his face or the warmth of his hand taking mine, I still missed his presence.

When I was 13, some friends and I met at a church parking lot to shoot hoops. It turned out to be my first attempts to find the love I craved.

"Josh, don't go home, man," Michael urged, wiping sweat from his forehead after we finished our game. "Come to church with us. It starts in a few minutes."

At first I intended to say no, but something drew me. It wasn't a hunger for God or the hope I would find something life changing between those concrete walls, but more of a need to be included in whatever my friends were doing. It felt good to simply belong.

The preacher addressed the congregation with words that flowed in a powerful stream, but I yawned and shifted uncomfortably. At the end of the evening I bowed my head, but only because that's what everyone else was doing and I didn't want to be different. I was tired of being different and feeling alone.

The more I tried to find what was missing inside of me, the more lost I became. Marijuana could mask the pain for a while, filling me with a hazy sense of relief until the high vanished and I had to face reality again. Alcohol dulled my suffering and gave me a shield to hide behind until a hangover was all that was left. Still, a temporary escape was better than none at all, and I clung to that reasoning like those church people clung to their Bibles.

Smoking and drinking were nothing I would do in front of friends or family, only in the privacy of my room. I was still "good old josh" to everyone who knew me, pulling in straight A's, hanging out with friends, and functioning like a well-oiled machine, but there was that other side of me that only I knew, the one that surfaced in the dark. I tries so hard to fill the void in my life that i found poor substitutes in booze and weed. At last they were always there when I needed them... joints and whiskey bottles never walked away.

That summer I met with a girl named Stephanie through a mutual friend. She was bright, pretty, and easy to talk with. We began dating, and the closer I got to her, the less my needy soul hurt. She and her parents were devout Christians, which meant I had to do some heavy acting. If Stephanie was going to love me and chase all my troubles away, I would have to play the role of a Christian. I knew I could do it; it hadn't been that hard the night I went to church with Michael and Brian. I just needed to go through the motions of worship again.

To be continued.....