a metaphor.

i think it's like this:

in 2009, God gave me a car. a shiny, new car that was fabulous and perfect and, for the sake of the story, let's say it was pink. the kind of thing that made my eyes grow wide and my jaw drop. that's MINE?

i was obsessed with it. it was all i could think about. i knew i couldn't drive it just yet, but that didn't stop me from sitting in class, daydreaming about it, and maybe even sneaking a peek at it every once in a while. such beauty, i couldn't even believe it was mine. that He gave it to me.

in 2011, i got in and sat in the driver's seat. i was ready to go, key in the ignition. that's when i noticed the missing gas pedal. what? who gives someone a car that doesn't have a gas pedal?

i told God about it, thinking maybe He just forgot. but He said He didn't forget. okay, but uh, how am i supposed to go anywhere? you don't, He said. you wait.

so i waited. sometimes patiently, sometimes impatiently.

in 2012, the gas pedal appeared. YES. finally. i turned the key, slammed my foot down on the pedal, and i was off.

but something felt wrong. i was going too fast. God, why did You give me a car that went this fast? my hands gripped the wheel, but i couldn't control it. i crashed right into a wall. and the pieces fell apart. God?

He was miles behind me. i'd left Him in the dust and had to crawl my way back to Him. thankfully, He is a God of grace, who fixes the things i break.

next time, He says, let Me take the wheel.