“My Mom was a little religious, my Dad not at all. So when she was killed--and my Dad was left in a coma--I didn’t have a strong foundation of faith to turn to. By the time my father was killed—then so many of my friends--all I had left to turn to was anger. It was easier than believing in a God who had let that happen. But anger solved little and when the world was in crisis--I prayed. I heard only silence. So I confessed my sins… and realized I had none. How could someone who tried so hard to be good--did so much for so many people--be asked to endure so much?”
Book:Red Robin #22