Born to two parents who criss-crossed the country to find themselves and find each other, I grew up in the middle of the Nevada desert, in a small town surrounded by friends and a conservative church family.
My formative years were defined by the open skies, purple mountains, and sagebrush- and the allergies that came with it. It's here where I discovered my love for space, an understanding of how the world should be, and my love for down-to-earth, grounded people.
Then I moved to Las Vegas. The big city. I hoped to flee, to escape everything I knew, everyone who helped define me. Four years in college and a mess of troubles later, I was far from that person, that kid in the small town. I moved again. This time, it was for a job and a new fresh start in life.
The plane touched won in Hartford on a cold November night. I remember thinking, "Here we go; this is "real" life." That real life took an unexpected turn when a met a blonde-haired, green-eyed, beautiful girl who stole my heart from the get-go. We were married three years later.
Now here was are; living in western Wisconsin, after moving again, lonely, unemployed, and still figuring out who we are. The one constant has been my faith, knowing that God has never- and will never- leave us.
This is my story: sojourning, searching, changing. Without it, I wouldn't be who I am today. And for that, I am grateful.
Ricky C.
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