the drive

silence......


the only sounds to be heard were the revving of the engine and the harsh wind as she sped through it, up the inclines, down the dips, and into the cold, black night. above her head and out in the looming distance were streaks of navy and ash, with less than a handful of sparkled glitters, giving a faint glow to the sky. in the air was the bone-chilling smell of december, which would soon fade away quietly into january.

and she drove on.

at first, there were no thoughts. there were no deep revelations, no wonderments to turn the head of another. only silence. and it continued for a good long while. until a rather small gleam opened up those unpretentious clouds, and as the gap grew wider, the thoughts began pouring through.

one of them, which was admittedly large--called prayer, occupied her, and caused an array of emotions. initially, it tried to push her into a pond of guilt, but stepping back, she became more curious than apologetic. what was this so-desired essence that they all routinely listed as wanting, yet which was more often treated as a mediocre advantage?

for many, it seemed suitable, almost sensible, but clearly was not coveted in a manner which would guarantee its obtaining. and yet for others, so select-few it seemed, it was quite simple, and yet treasured so deeply and used so often, that one could only guess what would happen if it were not there.

what a thing to consider, she wondered, steering slightly to the right. how many people in the world prayed for such selfish purposes...how many of her own conversations with God had been centered on her materialistic desires and vain hopes. what image do i portray of Him? what does He think when i speak? the questions drew her out of a reverie as she simultaneously pressed the brake to keep from colliding into a speeding shadow.

and who was she, to think she could hide from Him? yes, those deep, hidden indulgences and guilts were indeed paraded before His eyes, with no veil to cover them. mercy, she cried, oh God show me mercy in my innermost being! for what i have done--and what i have not done, for my apathy and my pride, for the days when i loved you not and the days i lived for myself. four hot tears slid down her cheek, and she wished with all her might she could see Him and let Him hold her tenderly in His strong arms.

teach her, dearest Father, what it means to pray. break her clenched fists with Your gentle touch. for she longs for You, o holy one--You who even as a nursing babe would have more wisdom than she.


and coming round the last bend, she saw the city lights aglow. they were breath-taking. common-sense prevented her from pulling to the side and breathing in those lights, but oh how desperately she wanted to stop the journey of life and soak them in--those pictures of her soul, little flames in the distance, with so much beneath them.

but i promise, she said aloud...you shall look at this girl in one year's span, and if she is alive, she will be very much a changed woman. changed through prayer by Him who listens and answers. broken she may be, but crushed she will not, for she has hope--that which, though shaken at times, will never fall. hope in the One who knows best, who knows all, and who knew her frail, trembling heart--and who still loved her. with that thought, her head bent to the side, the trace of a smile could be found on the corner of her lips, and if you delved into her mind, you would have seen, "He still loves me."



in more ways than one,
it was a beautiful drive home.