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It might go without saying that I have always struggled with religion and spirituality. I wrote this during one of those struggling moments.

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It's late at night. Sleeping are most except myself deep in thought. A longing to speak to God so near yet his home is so far away. I know I get closer by walk or crawl but the distance so minute hardly a fraction could describe. If I am on the 5th floor I am positive that I am closer to Heaven than the person on the bottom floor. But when we both look up the distance is the same. I comprehend my task and my life endeavor. It’s simply to walk home; home where I began where life begins and ends. Yet I know not the address, the street, or even the neighborhood. I can only tell by some signs on the road and a homemade compass that I am going in the right direction. But will I know I’m there? Will I see it on the horizon or will I miss a turn? Will someone be there to welcome me and grant me rest from my long travel? Why these questions seem so loud in my head I’ll never know until I’m home.