LaMeta

My hands barely touched the steering wheel, half wanting it to steer itself. Head against the headrest, lost eyes. Driving purposeless in the middle of the night was not how I pictured my day ending.

Yet there I was.

With a knot of unspoken words gripping my neck. Without a purpose, but in search for one. Searching for what cannot be found like everything else.

I was looking for God. 

I no longer felt anger, only that type of solace a child feels looking for a lost toy, knowing it cannot be angry at what it lost.

I finally accepted fault.

For years I blamed, You, God for leaving. For leaving after I trusted You blindly. After I gave You my fears and trusted You would make it all better. But when things didn’t, I felt betrayed. I was Your child, and You denied my pleas. Those pleas I said in between broken prayers, through sleepless nights.

I was Your child and I acted childish.

I lost myself in a tantrum and somewhere in between the anger, the confusion, and the disappointment, I hid and decided I needed time away from You. But that break broke me.

“There’s more to life than being a passenger.”

I disagree, not when You drive. It’s your way Yahweh.