For many years I felt lost and alone. Thoughts flooded my mind and feelings overwhelmed me. Thoughts and feelings that tormented me. Thoughts and feelings I had to hide. For whom could I talk to? Whom could I tell? For who would not judge me for such moral failure as hatred raged and all peace escaped me. Desperate for relief, my only confidant and friend became a pen and paper. They would not judge me. They would not look at me differently. So as in silence I cried through written word, I eventually discovered that I was not lost, and I was never alone, because all that time . . . He was there.