When I was in my early thirties, I was well on my way to achieving my career goals. For the most part it was a matter of a few more moves, both geographically and corporately, before finally reaching the actual top of the hill so to speak. I was not married at the time, so the prospect of finding a wife had begun to edge its way toward the top of my life’s goals. On this account however there were two haunting questions that nagged at me greatly: 1. Could I find someone that would make me happy for the rest of my life? 2. If I were to find such a woman, why should I ever expect that I could do the same for her?
I was living on a houseboat, another achieved goal, and had a sailboat parked in a slip just a few feet away. There were several people living on their boats on this particular dock, and lots more that were there most of the time. Since boat life required one to be outside, neighbors were always assessable and that fact lent itself well to fellowship. It was impossible to not get involved in the affairs of the people of your particular dock, which was mostly a good thing in the sense of community.
There was much consumption of alcohol during that period. I might go so far as to call myself at the time a social alcoholic. I felt the need to feel the effects of alcohol to enjoy myself, but also detested the feeling of being drunk. Also, this seems to be as good a place as any to insert the fact that I was not at all happy. This was a distressing reality for me because I had done everything that the world had to do in order to achieve happiness, but there I was running out of green hills to conquer in my search for it. It was one beautiful day that I was wondering around on the dock, beer in hand, interacting with neighbors when I suddenly saw myself as I was, through my neighbors.
I was younger than most of them, and we had all set ourselves up in a world of diversion. Their whole life had become about boating, drinking, and talking about how wonderful it was to live on a boat. However, for me there seemed to be a moment of clarity this day where the veil of diversion was lifted up momentarily to reveal the misery underneath. Their unveiled faces begged the question over and over again: is this all there is, is this all there is? I would never see them or myself the same again.
As I survey this short life that I’ve thus lived, this was without question the first step toward life, and not only that but abundant life, though it would be a couple years in coming.
Make America Great Again - There is a famous quote, falsely attributed to Alexis de Toqueville, that is, despite its lack of a sure source, true. Not until I went into the churches o...