Almost fifteen years ago I climbed to the top of a mountain, in epic fashion, and sat on the precipice in tears proclaiming my faith in a God I’d just met. The wind blew up from the valley cooling the fresh saline streams on my flesh. Somewhere in the distance, the town I now live was just out of view. At the time this place was just a place, it was far from home. I was single, lost, and then found. The broken path led me to war, then up a mountain, and later to a church where I’d find my wife and perhaps a calling. What is providence anyway?