It was late morning in northern New Mexico and I was driving south back to west Texas. The sky was blue and expansive, while I starred into the horizon. Worried about the direction my life was going and what would become of me I took an inventory of where I was. I was technically a Michigan resident, however I had never spent more than three months in state. I was about to stop at the Burger King in Espanola and thought that, being twenty-one ,I could have bought a beer in Red River before starting the long drive back.
A thought out of nowhere came into my head as clear and concise as any I had ever had myself. My destiny and fate had been made in that moment when I looked up into the heavens and asked, “Whom will I be?” I dismissed the idea that it had actually been God talking to me because I had for some reason adopted the idea that He didn’t do that anymore.
That thought haunted my dreams while I was living in Indianapolis a few years later, sitting on a creek bank in the metro area looking east, with my back to the west. I realize now that the desert does indeed, as my wife Amy put it, allow you to hear your own thoughts. I ‘d like to add to that statement, for some the desert allows you to hear the voice of God.
by “Desert Rat”
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