Life is an expedition and often presents moments of uncertainty. These moments are characterized by the word “perhaps.” Perhaps I can succeed. Perhaps my dreams will come true. Perhaps I can make a difference, or worse yet, perhaps not.

Our hopes, plans, and dreams often get lost in the “heat” of life. Light rays are bent in a naturally-occurring phenomenon called a mirage, and the refraction creates displaced and distorted objects.

A firm hand pressed down on my shoulder as my pencil made an upward sweeping motion creating a near-symmetric circle as its final mark in my notebook. "Doesn't look like math to me," my teacher said as I raised to meet her eyes. "It looks like doodling!" she said. Wisdom prevailed, and I didn't say what I was thinking. In my mind, the lines and shapes did, in fact, involve a little geometry. Not that it was on purpose!

With the hot Louisiana sun cooking my back, I crawled on my belly for what seemed like hours. A tiny bird perched on a low-hanging branch was my target. With my “Daisy Red Rider” B-B gun and all the skill a seven-year-old can muster, I took steady aim and squeezed the trigger. And just like that, it was over! Or was it?

As I admired my trophy on the ground, I was surprised by my dad’s voice. “Now what?” he said.

There she stood against a backdrop of drab gray. Her hair was somewhere between brown and dishwater blonde and somewhat unkempt. Her eyes were striking - a slightly muted translucent blue-gray that could go green given the right surroundings. This teenage image of innocence held a sign I would have otherwise ignored, except for the questions she held in her eyes.

I stopped in my tracks at the words smeared in gold on her black and crumpled cardboard. It said: "THERE IS NO GOD."

Coming home late one night after extensive travels, something strange happened as I leaned in to kiss my three-year-old "good night." His chubby little hands shot out from under the covers and squeezed my cheeks. His eyes searched every detail of my face…