"Listen to the Wind"

I lay awake, listening to the surf outside my bedroom window. It seemed every night had been a sleepless one lately. What was wrong with me? At my new job, editing The Carolina Opry's entertainment magazines, I was making more money than I ever had. In addition, I performed a weekly one-man show as Mark Twain in one of the Opry's theaters. I should have been energized and excited, but instead I felt deflated and distracted. Strangely, I found myself wondering what I really wanted out of life.

Growing up, I was fat and had acne, so I was a favorite target for bullies. That's when I developed the yearning to be somebody important. In the meantime, I fended off ridicule by making people laugh. I mimicked our principal and teachers, as well as characters like the Hunchback of Notre Dame and Frankenstein's monster. I discovered I had a talent for capturing an audience.

In college I decided politics was my ticket to recognition. After graduation I landed a job as a radio talk-show host, my first step into the public eye. Through contacts made there—and a little luck—I became executive director of a regional chamber of commerce in the Myrtle Beach area. On the side I indulged my love of the stage by co-creating a show with friends, dramatizing the rich folklore of the South, performing five of eight characters myself.

My job and show got me lots of attention. When a U.S. Congress seat opened up in my district, I decided to go for it. Campaigning, I gazed into the faces of people at speaking engagements, many of those folks wearing buttons with my name on them, and I felt electrified. I even sold my house to finance my campaign. Although my chances of winning were slim, I believed the effort would pay off the next time.

Now everything was in place for that second attempt. I had respect, power and admiration—everything I had always wanted. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that something crucial was missing in my life.

I got out of bed and went to the window to stare out toward the Atlantic. I felt like a bottle adrift on its roiling waves. I couldn't remember ever feeling so alone and helpless. In meetings at work I would often be taken with the feeling that I didn't belong there. I leaned my head against the cool windowpane and watched my breath fog the glass. "Lord, help me," I whispered, and the desperation in my voice surprised even me. I had always considered myself a religious person, but I had never before felt such a deep need to reach out to God.

As I prayed, it suddenly hit me that I had never before asked God to guide my way. I had always just asked for the strength to continue down the path I had chosen. I got back into bed. Show me the way, I prayed, before finally falling asleep.