Religion failed me growing up. In middle school, my youth pastor left his wife for another man, the church the split and divided until only a fraction of us were left, we ugly fired our pastor, and to cap it off, my own mother became the youth leader. So I chose to give my life to what so many other high school boys did. Sports and women.  

But these failed me too. In early high school my girlfriend left me for my best friend (it was a bad… year) and so I lost faith in dating all together. More time for sports. But at the end of high school my scholarship to play soccer in college fell through when the coach left for “family emergencies.” I had nothing left. So I decided to embrace the college party life. 

Yet again it would fail me. Partying was fun, I had a blast, it just didn’t fulfill me. I can still describe the scene. There we were sitting on a Friday night drinking and laughing together. The house was a historic home and a trap door from the underground railroad laid uncovered behind me. All my friends were there and I remember thinking to myself “this is a perfect Friday night.” Then the voice in the back of my mind asked “Is this what you’re living your life for? Is this the best it gets?” Those questions would haunt me.