Lost Control

I have a strange sort of feeling right now... I don't really know how to describe it. It's sort of like driving on a highway and seeing a bridge up ahead, except that the bridge isn't there and it's just a large chasm looming ahead. There's no turning around, because even though I'm in the driver's seat I'm not really driving. At least I don't have a whole lot of control over the car. Maybe the brake pedal isn't there, nor is the wheel or the handbrake. I'm looking around trying to find something that will change the impending outcome, but so far... nothing.

And I'm sort of resolved about it, though I do feel a mingling of regret and maybe resentment or hurt. But why do I feel resolute, when I'm careening towards emptiness?

I guess I figure something will present itself at the last minute. I know I have no clue what God has planned for me next, and I know He's going to work something out. But how much impact does that have on me right now, since I see this outcome approaching quickly. It doesn't not have an impact... or else I think I'd be panicked or something. I'd like to say any peace I feel is a direct result of faith. But if I said that I think I'd be wrong. I don't know I'd be wrong, but I think I'll just avoid that question altogether.

So am I a man of strong faith, or just stupid enough to keep driving? At what point do I wrench the door open and leap out? And at what point do I sense the analogy has served its purpose and is now being dug into the ground? Ah, that'd be a few minutes ago, but yet I keep writing...