“So as I shivered, naked and damp, in front of the bathroom mirror, I raised my eyes skyward. "I hope we're still okay."I got no answer, but then, I didn't really expect one. Answer or not, it didn't matter. That's the thing about faith, I guess.”

“And I knew in that I had my answer. I didn't know if there ever was a choice, really. I was already in too deep.”

“I didn't really care much about anything, so I guess I felt fine.”

“The days that stick in my mind are not the ones when I had the answers, but the ones when I didn't.”

“Who are you, really? The question penetrated, echoed, demanded an answer. It nipped at me in ways I wasn't prepared for, pinched in places I didn't like. Was I really so entrenched in the world I'd been raised in, so set in my ways that I couldn't look beyond the surface of another person and see a human being? Was I that shallow?”

“As a teenager I clearly remember mornings when I was getting ready for school when something would -just still me- and I would lean forward and peer very intensely into the eyes of the girl in that mirror. who is that? I didn't know . I looked into those eyes as if they had the answer to who I am or who I could be." So I would search the depths of those green and blue flecked eyes. Calmly searching the eyes of this stranger as if I thought that if I looked deep enough, or long enough, I would find the answer to why I was even here.I didn't know what I know now. That I could only find out my identity,who I waswhen I stopped looking into my own eyesand instead searched in the eyes of Jesus. Only He could REALLY tell me who I am. Who I can be. Who I will be...”