I determined to follow him over twenty years ago, albeit fearfully, hesitantly, and somewhat erratically. The destination was not made clear — there were no road signs along the way with the exact name of where I was headed, what I would be doing, or who I would be doing it with. I remember well the misgivings and angst that accompanied my decision to follow anyway, without knowing.
I trusted him. On days I couldn’t muster up real trust, I followed because I had committed to.
In the midst of all that uncertainty was a sense of something ahead. It beckoned. It promised. It offered circumstances that would put to rest my unmet needs. It would make sense of chronically undeveloped, frustrated qualities and yearnings within me.
I can describe it only as a sense of purpose, a destiny beyond my understanding, a calling from my familiar life into an unknown…
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