So, I turned to Carl Jung and devoured all his books. Religious experience, he said, was often valuable to his patients. My Search now became a religious quest. All to no avail. But, by the age of 30 I had reached existential despair.
Life is meaningless, there is no purpose for man's existence.
Besides, my grandmother back in Idaho had been praying for me since the day I was born. The best years of my life were over and gone I had looked everywhere, there was no place else to search. In 1962 my then-roommate's parents invited me one day to church where for the first time in my life I heard what the Bible had to say about reality. One Reads Anymore. The pastor refused to give me his own opinion on things, but answered every question by pointing me to various passages in the Bible.