empty bookless hands

the problem is I don't know who to worship anymore.
I liked the narrative.
I liked the order and answers.
I feed on words.
I knew what to get up and read and study every morning.
I can't worship nature even though I love it.
I can't worship or believe it's all inside in me.  I feel finite.
mostly...I just get up and don't know what to read.
who ever thought not knowing what book to read each morning would make a person cry so hard?

but I know too much to go back to the way it was.
I won't pick up the bible just to have an answer to which book.
maybe someday I will, maybe never.
I lived in there so long.
I was so good at it.
it was good mostly, but there's just...other.
other things to learn for now, and
when I grab that book,
I feel comfortable but closed to other.

people will worry and think that's where i'd find comfort and answers and it'd be like going home.
but they don't know where I am.  they don't know that for me,
right now,
it's the worst choice.
ironically, god is the only one who understands why it's important I don't.

it's too hard to explain to everyone.

[you don't have to, honey.  you don't.  the voice in the brackets who answers, who has always answered, already knows.  just come rest.  you know me.  don't name me now...or ever...just rest.  you're allowed].

please brackets-voice, please be a woman...or a very high percentage.
at least that would be new.