I glanced up when I heard the back of her head hit the car window on her side. She had popped her head back and was staring up at the ceiling of the car. “You know,” she said, drawing her gaze back to me, “I tried all my life to be a good Christian girl. I was raised in the church marching up the steps every Sunday wearing cute little dresses on Easter, listening to every word the preacher said, taking it to heart and trying my best to be the Christian I thought the Lord wanted me to be, but after what I went through when David died, and especially after I lost the baby, I started asking myself, why. Really, why? I don’t even know if there is a God anymore. I know what I was taught my whole life, but how do I know? How do you know? How does anyone know if it’s true? You live your life tryi
