Before the world showed you it wasn’t kind, before the panic lodged in your lungs, before you knew that "dust to dust " wasn’t just a nod to mortality, but to dreams, and trust, and dreams of trust — before those days, you’d kneel at the window and sing to Him…

Have you longed, year after year, for someone to squeeze your hand, meet your eyes, and say “I know”? In dreams, that someone says, “I know your heart because I’ve studied it. I’ve memorized it like a folk song I learned in my youth, a timeless tune that will never fade…”

When you were younger you dreamed of doing something big, something glorious, meaningful, and measurable. Your mission might be costly, but it would fit neatly into a memoir of adventurous faith…