God holds the steering wheel, but I can’t help but furrow my eyebrows and question the direction He chooses. “It’s too long a distance,” I point out, “and I’ll be the one that loses.”
Yet, He carries on at a seemingly slow and agonizing pace. I feel like I’m losing the race. Can’t He see it on my face? Can’t God see that I’ll soon be losing my place? Can’t He take a look at the plans and dreams I would so gladly chase? Can’t He see that they are hard for me to easily efface?
“Trust me child,” God whispers, noting my distress yet again. “Trust me, I’ll keep you safe. Aren’t I the one that dried your tears and battled your fears? Aren’t I the one that still remains when everyone around you disappears? Aren’t I the one who sees your beauty and looks past your fears?”
I drop my gaze to my nervously clutched hands, knowing what He says is true. He nursed my wounds when life beat me black and blue. He’s the one that loves me until my heart is close to being new. “Fear not, child,” God whispers, “for I know the plans I have for you.”
It hurts to let go. It’s hard to let go of the dreams I thought you’d bestow. It’s too difficult that we can’t accommodate them or take them in tow. God give me the grace to realize the dreams I need to forgo. Help me to realize the eternal dreams you have for me and which ones to let go.
God answers before He gently takes my shaking hands ahold, “Can’t you see child that I know what the future holds? Can’t you see that my love for you dictates the future that unfolds? For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways. There’s a reason for my delays. Regardless of how you feel, I will be with you always.”
I struggle to swallow the doubts that come with the confusing sea of tribulation. I struggle to turn my gaze back to His as I remain aware of my misplaced indignation. So, I fold my hands to pray for God to chase away my feelings of trepidation. I pray for the strength to force my dreams into abdication. I pray to experience God’s sense of alleviation.
I pray and pray, until I’m able to turn my gaze back to His. Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed by the knowledge of who He is. So, I square my shoulders and hope that through unexpected turns, my heart will remain at ease. I hope that if I ever grab the wheel, I’ll be wise enough to return the keys.
Here’s to looking at you, God, and to the endless joys of eternal bliss. Here’s to looking at you, God, for always loving me. Here’s to a God that reminds me to pray on my knees.
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