It's a strange sort of life to live; when the road before you is set, with only Him beside you, and you aren't sure of who or what will come around the corner to become part of the journey.
When the only constants are the two of you.
And the road.
The long road of your purpose and your life's work.
It's strange because it sounds so much more fulfilling than it feels.
It's about as romantic as breathing; not at all in the unconscious moment, only a necessary function to exist, with yet another breath needed immediately after the last. Incessant. Without question. Simply the next step.
But it's absolutely beautiful upon reflection.
Such is true living.
Such is true purpose.
I am thankful.
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