I view the first six years after leaving home (roughly ages 18 – 23) as my lost years when I had little clue as to who I was or what I wanted to do – what to expect of myself, what to expect of others. These were the uncomfortable years, the years of high anxiety and feelings of misgiving. Many of these years found me at institutions of higher learning. But I was not focused and passionate about my studies or work. I was searching, I was lost. I was a tied statue. I was sure only of my family’s love and God’s love. These were the springs of living water in a desert pocked with stagnant pools of isolation and doubt.
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