Exit 4 South to Kansas City.

That's what the sign said.

Y'know, those big green signs over the freeway. I had probably read hundreds of them. I had probably read this one a hundred times alone.

It was late. My work had gotten off at 11' o'clock. In the evening. I had just worked at catering wedding reception. Everyone seemed so happy there. Nothing but plastic smiles plastered on their plastic faces. Not a care in the world.

This probably wasn't true, but it had worked. I had genuinely envied them.

My life was currently a maze of conflict. I had been raised in a Christian home all my life. Strong, Christian parents, who only allowed me to make strong, Christian friends. But I hadn't complained. That sort of life, though plastic a boring, was solid. But it was about this time that I began to ask myself, "Is the Christian life supposed to be solid? Who's supposed to be the Rock here? Us, or God?" My answer was clear: Our lives were meant to be filled with turmoil. To be tossing oceans. Not solid, or sleepy. The only solidity in our lives was supposed to be the Rock. Only in our instability, can we truly rely on a stable God.

 When I had come to this realization, I reacted. I started questioning everything. Acting randomly, and doing dangerous things. I still clung to God, but that was about it. The world was worthless, and meaningless. I had to get away from it.

That's when I saw the sign.

Now, I always drove past the sign and took the other freeway home. I had never noticed it before. Now, it was calling me. Moving me. With every fiber of my being, I wanted to follow that sign.

That's when my rational, solid upbringing kicked in. For the last time. I drove past the sign and headed home. At home, things moved slowly. In my Jeep, things started accumulating. Clothes, money, a tent. It took several days before I realized that I was sub-conciously packing for a trip. But when the sleepingbag found its way into my Jeep, I realized it was time to go. I had to go.

So, about a week after the sign had called me, actually, that God had called me, I was ready to go. I was going to follow the sign. Follow God.

 It was 10 at night. A beautiful night. I hugged my mom closely. She hadn't understood, but she had a peace about it. I was walking out the door, when I almost bumped into my friend, Tim, on the doorstep.

Now, Tim doesn't normally visit at 10 at night, so this was unusual.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I don't know. I just had to come. And I don't know why. What're you doing?"

I told him. After listening he said, quietly.

"I coming with you. I've felt the same thing. I've brought my stuff."

Suddenly, I understood. All this time, I thought I would have to break away from the stable life by myself. I wouldn't. Tim was coming with me.

A short time later, Tim's stuff was packed and we were off.

We drove in silence for 20 minutes. There was something emotional and mutual about what we were feeling at that moment that was beyond words. It wasn't fear. It was peace. We were jumping off a perverbial cliff, and we had a peace about it.

Finally, out on the freeway, Tim kicked his shoes off.

"So, since we don't know what we're doing, can I at least ask where we're heading?" He asked, propping his feet up on the dash.

"I was thinking Kansas City." I responded, leaving the sign behind me forever....