I asked God a hundred times or so to show me the way. Trying to wrestle guidance from the silence was like wringing a dry towel in the desert and hoping for water to soothe a burning tongue.

Today, whether driven by desperation or its more dignified cousin, dogged determination, I asked again. “I know everyone’s opinion except yours and mine: give me a sign.”

After a century of silent prayers at last, God spoke.

I heard the Divine Parent say, “My child, you are a big girl now. You must learn to make your own decisions.”

And so, at once affirmed, deflated, defeated, I set up camp in the shade of that opaque, obstinate oracle.