She became one of those smiling, happy people, just like on the cover of the tract.
She had exhausted her worldly understanding. She could find, it seemed, no peace, in all the worldly systems, and even turned to drugs and alcohol. People talk about "rock bottom", and she had reached it. She was sleeping in a friend's car at nights. She didn't have access to a bathroom; she had to go to edge of the treeline and make her toilet as if she were a squirrel or a raccoon. She despaired of life, and was just marking time for its own sake. Until a trip to the library, where she used the public computers free of charge. There was a tract, a pile of tracts on a counter. She took one. Part of her was thinking that she could fall into the charity of that local ministry, let them take of her, but that wasn't the mainline of her thinking. She had questions about the life of faith. I mean, "what made them so different?" Even on the cover of the tract, photos, the people were happy, seemingly captured in mid-laugh. She found the word, an...