Go, and it will go well for you.

I know that I did not understand the significance of leaving when I left. I am not even sure that I understood that I was leaving. I only got on a train and left my home of four years. We didn’t expect that day. It was routine, forever engrained in my mind as the perfect way to say goodbye. By that time we were a pair, and so we cleaned my apartment together. I ate a salad, alone, of course. We fought. I won $800. Such luck. Our lives had been routine and we lived in it still. I stalled leaving for as long as I could. Those last few hours, we told each other all that we had meant. Roots deep and fast. I didn’t understand how fast leaving would pull them out. And then the goodbye. I was always the stoic one, and so, I expected to board and forget it all. We stood on the track, was it eleven or nineteen?, and we held on. I was not the first one to start crying, I am not sure who was the last.

Two days later, I was in Ohio, visiting my family. There is not much to say except for the first time I realized that I did not have a home or a job in California. I was riding on a simple word spoken from God, “go”. I imagine now that he said “Go, and it will go well for you.” But, that’s only my imagination. I poured over the story of Abraham that week: “Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you.” And later, “Do not be afraid, Abram. I am your shield, your very great reward.” I was afraid. I only hoped that G-D could repeat himself 3,000 years later. That's what I prayed, anyway.

I did not stop being afraid. I only came home, packed everything I might need in my beat up car. I stepped into my father’s sanctuary the day before I left. Again, distant friends came up to me and assured me, “The L-RD says you do not know why you are going, but he knows. You are going to find something, and when you find it this will make sense.” In my innermost heart I hoped that it was love.

A second goodbye. This time my parents and brother Michael stood in a line. First I hugged Michael, thinking to myself, you have no idea how much I admire you. And then my father. Is there a more tender word than father? Those two stoic men are among my favorite in the whole world. And finally, momma. What a beautiful woman, transformed into my closest friend. We said goodbye as I moved for the third time, only, this time had no end date. I drove off, playing Joni Mitchell’s Blue album on my way to pick darling girl up.

She was more than a travel companion. We needed a sister when we met. And in this way, we grew up together. In two short years, we grew up together. At the beginning, we used to wonder if anyone knew how lucky we were to have bosom buddies. We were eight when we met. Two years later, we were grown.

It wasn’t until Tennessee we noticed the L-RD joined us. She noticed first, of course. We fought the first two days; it had been a long time since we lived together. We finally asked him, please take us into the mountains. Please show us this place, please give us more time. And then we found that detour that took up a mountain into the Smokeys. But first, we traveled through Appalachia. We hiked and escaped a thunderstorm and then we gained an hour crossing into Nashville. I am convinced the Holy Spirit lives deep in the mountains in Tennessee. I am equally convinced that he loves to travel. It was only then that I started to believe that he might have actually meant what he said. That’s what I’ve always wanted from G-D, to know that he really means what he says.