For most of my years, I’ve wandered the Earth in search of God, longing for a real encounter with divine love. I was a spiritual vagabond, always looking somewhere else for God, over the next hill, in the next book, at the next conference, a different technique, experience, or idea—seeking fulfillment and meaning and happiness in achievement, recognition, influence, even possessions.
I figured God was somewhere other than where-I-was because I didn’t find where-I-was to be all that interesting.
I was perpetually restless. And because I was always looking elsewhere, I was blind to what—or Who—was right before me, beneath me, around me . . . indeed, within me.
To be continued . . .