I didn’t mean to drift…

I didn’t mean to drift.

I thought I was following You, I really did.

But somewhere along the way, my eyes locked onto what You said You’d do—

And not the One who said it.

I was so eager to arrive that I forgot who was walking me there.

God, I’ve been chasing glimpses of the promise like a mirage in the desert.

Every opportunity, every open door, every “almost” had me running ahead, breathless,

convinced, “This must be it!”

But I didn’t stop to ask if You were still with me.

I didn’t notice Your presence wasn’t in it—because I was too enamored by the idea of it.

I have bowed at the feet of what I thought was the fulfillment,

kissed the ground of temporary blessings,

and called it worship—

when really, it was idolatry.

I traded intimacy for immediacy.

I let impatience make a golden calf out of a good thing.

I’ve wept over things You never gave me, because I ran ahead and called it You.

I tried to force open doors You hadn’t touched,

and then cried when they didn’t hold.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but there were times I wanted the promise more than I wanted You.

I wanted the outcome more than the obedience.

The dream more than the daily walk.

The blessing more than the blood.

And yet—You remain.

You wait for me in the wilderness, unoffended but grieved,

not because I missed the mark, but because I missed You.

I hear You whisper now,

“I am not just the giver of the promise—I AM the promise.”

You are the portion.

You are the prize.

You are the presence I never deserved but desperately need.

So here I am again, Lord.

Hands empty. Eyes lifted.

Heart repenting. Soul realigning.

I don’t want to miss You chasing what You never told me to run after.

Let the promise come when You say it’s time—

but don’t let me lose Your presence on the way.

Even if the road is longer…

Even if the waiting is bitter…

Even if the wilderness is all I ever see…

If You’re in it, I’m staying.

If You’re not, I won’t go.

If You move, I’ll move.

If You linger, I’ll linger.

Because the promise might satisfy a season—

but only Your presence can sustain my soul.

And I finally see it now:

The promise was never the goal.

You were. You are. You always will be.