Excerpt:

Reflecting on her younger days, of hiding under piles of golden leaves, climbing trees, sitting alone in a quiet field, reflecting on the intricate beauty of an insect she’d found. Eleanor was not your average 24 year old. Standing 5’ 10” tall since the eighth grade, she was not a statuesque beauty. Instead, her back slightly bent forward, her shoulders rolled slightly to her chest. In high school a cruel boy once dubbed her a hunch back. She did not have the elegant beauty of her sister, Lee. She was just a plain girl. Her clothes were always a drab color of khaki or sage green. Though she was not a lesbian, she wore Birkenstock sandals, even in winter. One could say that Eleanor was a dreamer.
Standing idly at her kitchen sink, staring out the window in her dreamy Autumn haze, Eleanor thought of fanciful days of when she was a child. She felt the awe and wonderment of God all around her. She witnessed His power in everything she saw, touched, felt, of sensed. While she was raised in a strict Christian home, she found that she could not believe in Jesus. She wanted to, she just couldn’t seem to find him in her heart.
As her youth passed into adolescence, she questioned all of existence. She began paying attention to the news and the horrors that lie there. She could not imagine how a God that created all that is could allow such atrocities to occur in the beautiful world He’d created. Slowly, forgetfully, she allowed Him to slip away. In His absence she claimed the title, “Atheist”.