Even stripped bare, the place was home. But for how much longer? He closed his eyes and tried to still his trembling hands, tried to find a reason to believe again.Please, God . . . show me the way. I’m out of answers.He waited, but there was no response, no whispered words of hope or gentle reminders or inspiring Scripture. Nothing. Are You there, God? Are You really there? With all of his strength, he fought the ocean of tears rising up inside his soul. He was out of money, and the latest loan hadn’t come through. He couldn’t buy books to stock his store without at least a line of credit. And no books meant no store.Another wave of despair washed up against the shore of his soul. All he could see was the way Donna had looked at him when he left home an hour ago—like even she’d lost faith in him.After thirty years in downtown Franklin, Charlie understood the gravity of the situation. Like so many bookstores across the country, his was about to become a casualty. Not because of e-readers—Charlie had enough customers who wanted a real book in their hands.
