Father, Do You See Me?
God, do you see me?!
The words echoed from my heart to my head, eventually making their way through my lips in a shaky, audible whisper.
I gripped the steering wheel—one hand on each side—writhing the squishy plastic cover as each hand turned in and then out. My head met the warmth of the black, leather wheel, and tears began to trickle down my tired face. I should have been heading inside to start getting my kids ready for bed. Instead, I sat in my parked car, in my driveway, alone in the silence that often prompted my soul to ask the hard questions.