All my life I believed in God, but at the same time I was mad as hell at Him. By the age of sixteen, both of my parents were dead and I was on my own trying to figure out this thing called life. I made every poor choice that a young girl could possibly make and as angry as I was at God, I figured He must be even more pissed off at me. I became a sole-survivor, striving to be “somebody” worth loving. I studied every kind of healing modality in a desperate attempt to fix myself. I had a headful of knowledge and a giant hole in my soul that no amount of drugs, alcohol, or public acclaim could ever fill. I became spiritually and morally bankrupt and hated the person I had become. I knew I was being called for more than the  life I was living, but in seeking the approval of the world, I was literally “looking for love in all the wrong places.” I got sober in 2003 and embarked on a spiritual quest to discover this “higher power” that could restore my life and would supposedly guide and transform me—if only I would surrender my life and let Him take control.