Even-fingered, soft, serene, delicious – my sheep. I see them every morning when I wake up in my stone castle, nestled on an island off the coast of Ireland. Every day I walk among my four-legged friends and watch the waves crash against the black rocks that protect my property. Life is happiness. I am seventy-seven years old and my entire life has been based on the dream of one day reaching that retirement dreamland. How did I get here? Well, it all started during my high school years, when I was going through those tough days with acne. When I started my freshman year, I intended to appear academically perfect. It took a lot of energy. The energy I had built up over time from the grief of the recent divorce, my immediate family, and, as Lemony Snicket would say, the never-ending series of unfortunate events. During this time, I began to question my Christian faith. A friend of mine asked me again to go to her church's youth group. After making several terrible excuses and feeling guilty, I agreed to go. The sermon that evening was about how “we...