Many novels, biographies, movies and documentary literature point to a common experience. As children we ache to grow up, to get older because the freedom we see in our future is so attractive and compelling. But, as is often said, freedom has a price. We don't always know what that price will be, what we may lose, what we may regret until we have stepped through that door. Sometimes, there is no going back. We can't un-see what we've seen. We can't un-hear what we've heard. And we can't believe what we know in our hearts isn't true. The price for this freedom can be steep. We may lose the love that has nourished us, the certainty that reassures us and the righteous and clear path laid out before us. Where we once gleaned all the answers now we find very few. Where once we were surrounded and bolstered by like-minded companions and teachers now we must take a lonelier road. It's hard work. And our old world still calls us to come back as if we could simply discard our new found convictions. It's a call to come home but we know we can never really return.