There on a large billboard along Interstate 95 and smaller roads in the eastern part of the Las Vegas Valley; God has a message for me. He knows my purpose.
Ok, as a starting point, I am not religious. If it is simple, consider me a spiritual agnostic who has seen a few too many things to consider myself a complete atheist.
The billboards proclaim that God knows my purpose. He does. Really? It happens again.
A yell, a scream, a grab, a cry for help. There is no In/Out sign. There is no on-call schedule. No one pre-arranges these things. They happen. For some unseen reason, I am just there.
Working backward: parent yelling, child screaming and no way I could track down the source of the sound before it stopped; photos of a young boy who was beaten by his step-dad because he was too loud in gym class; little girl, out of the corner of my eye, black eye, before I could get to her through department store crowding, she was gone; man yelling obscenities and threats at his wife from a hotel room; a man yells at and grabs his female companion; a young man, upset with his sister, swears and throws her baby stroller out of her pickup; a woman tries avoiding her argumentative male companion, she sits to eat an apple, he kicks it out of her hand, threatens her and runs away; woman tries running over her boyfriend with her car; and there are more and more.
Two years ago in October my motorcycle was delivered. That was when it really started. There were ocassional incidences before, but nothing like I have observed in the last two years. Abuse and mistreatment seemed to boil to the top and there I am. There are no coincicences.
God knows my purpose? Well. If this is it, I am ready. Bring it on.