"Where much is born, Much is torn." -Bradley White

October 5th.  

This afternoon in the car, I cried out to God.  Or gods.  Or goddesses.  I cried out to anyone/anything that may be able to hear me.  I asked for guidance.  I asked for an answer.  No, that's a lie.  This was beyond asking.  I begged.  I pleaded.  I literally, physically cried out through my tears, and with ragged breath- in a moment of absolute agony. 

I don't know what I'm doing.  I don't know where I'm headed, or how to get there.  I don't know what obstacles I will find along my path.  What I do know is- that moment in the car... that was desperation.  That is what lost feels like.  THAT, was spiritual and emotional death.  Having to admit that you can't do it on your own is no easy task.  (Especially for me).  I have finally hit my bottom, but that is okay.  For once in my life, I know that after a period of rest- after the ashes have settled, and the embers have died down- I will be reborn.  

This is the first moment of clarity that I've had in a very long time, maybe ever.  What's funny about it, is that it has given me no concrete answers.  It has come in the form of peace.  Finally, a moment of peace.  This is what I've been asking for... this single moment.  I've been begging for it for years, and God has finally handed it to me.  My job now, is to make the most of it, and see if I can learn how to get back to this place. 

Who knows if anyone will read this blog.  Who knows if anyone will care.  Honestly, it matters not.  I'm not writing it for you, but I do invite you to tag along. 
Welcome.  This is my journey.