I wasn’t getting any input from God on something I thought had to be done, so I tried to figure it out myself.  After putting a lot of effort into it over a few days, “one of those things” that happens to A.D.D. people who use computers apparently erased all of it.  Now ordinarily, I would just start over (though not cheerfully).  But this was “the last straw” after a lot of other problems.

I screamed in rage for maybe a minute, then cried in anguish for at least fifteen minutes. Then I had to get away from it all.

Grabbed my jacket and left.  Thinking, since everything went south, I’m going north.  So, using a compass known to be unreliable, I went straight north as much as possible.  Hills, thorns, cliffs, whatever—no detours.  Three or four kilometers griping at God:  “I want to do what you want.  Why do you make me try to guess what it is?  And if I’ve guessed right, why is everything going wrong?”

An hour before sundown, I took an easier route back.  I was joking before about becoming a hermit, but I’m serious now.  If God won’t talk to me, why should anyone else?

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