How I Became A Christian

It’s all fuzzy, really, the way I met Jesus. I think I was 7 years old.

No, maybe 6.

My mother, who at the time had just previously attempted to end her life when her marriage of 10 years failed due to an infidel of a father, invited my older sister and brother and I to sit on the floor of her bedroom to have “the talk.” I can remember running my fingers through the carpet, trying to focus on each gold follicle of the stained bristles more than the awkwardness of the moment.