With high school over my future lay before me, requiring some decisions on my part. Life is made up of decisions, the results of which determine our direction and, ultimately, our destiny.

Being expected to go to college I had applied to a handful of schools, including a few in-state. My Mom being on staff at the local junior (now community) college meant that my tuition would be free. If acceptances from schools included those far away would I leave the area, or choose the convenience of a 10-minute commute to classes at the junior college?

Something besides high school ended that year: my days of playing amateur baseball. To some this would be just part of life. To me, however, baseball was more: it WAS my life. I lived for baseball. The ending of football season meant baseball season was right around the corner. In one sense, baseball was my god.

In the spring of my senior year of high school I had tried out for our baseball team. Things were going well until the coach took me aside to advise me that if he played me he’d have me for one year, but taking a junior meant playing him for two years. My tryout effectively ended at that moment. Being too old to play another summer season, my playing days with/against guys I knew were officially no more.

Done. Finished. Over.

Aside from the most important thing in my life, baseball was a means of escape. An escape from the deteriorating family life that resulted in my mother leaving our home, just six weeks prior to my graduation. Coming home from school one day I found half of our furniture gone with my mother, who had moved near the junior college she worked at. With my older brother-and only sibling-already gone, it was just Dad, Casper (our dog), and me.

There was one shining light in my darkness. In my previous post I mentioned the family whose (as it turned out) youngest daughter was in our school choir. Those summer days at their house was a difference maker. Peace vs strife. Rest vs. agitation. Unconditional love vs the emptiness in my heart, even though I knew nothing about unconditional love at the time.

Something needed to change, whether I could define it or not.

If you’ve just joined me on this journey from death to life, go back and read my previous post. Then continue with the next post, coming soon. Hint: sometimes what seems to be a closed door forces us to focus on the open door before us, that leads to life.