I didn’t think so at the time, but I was pretty reckless when I was young. From like age 15 to 23. I had some pretty bad accidents. Cars mostly, but not all. I was a good driver, honestly. I figured I was just lucky to survive all the car accidents and relationship wrecks . Now I question if it was just dumb luck or what.

And then one day, some years later, I had open heart surgery. No doubt it saved my life, or at least guaranteed that my life would be extended for a period of time. Was that luck? Maybe. But, I’m not so sure now. If there’s a reason for my being I’m more certain now then ever that I should find it. Or, at least consider it. Maybe start to honor it. I didn’t run to “God” or religion. Certainly not religion. Yuck. But, purpose. Now there’s something to consider.


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