On radio this morning, Glenn read an email from a listener who decided to change their life:

"On Friday the 14th I overslept, caught the last 30 minutes of the radio show.  One of the guys said just put everything aside this weekend and read this book.  I thought, it's cold here in Illinois, I can do that.  So I began to read on Saturday.  I stopped when I got to the "God‑given capacity" part of the book.  Why this stopped me more than any other chapter was because I had heard that most of my life, especially by my mother and my best friend.  What's your God‑given capacity?  It's more than you think.  For the last 30 days, my life has been an absolute whirlwind of unexpected revelations since I took that first step and made a commitment.  This book has served as a confirmation of everything.  Now if I just shut up and listen, it works.  I'm not new at listening to God.  That's not a new concept.  It's a new concept for me to listen when it's something I don't want to hear.  I am born to seek.  After I posted, I left and got the ‑‑ I got beer.  I had only had four on Saturday night.  Yes, and I got behind the wheel of a car.  It was close to 1:00 a.m. after I had closed the book, and I went to a local station.  When I pulled in there, there was a young guy in his mid‑20s or so sitting on the curb with a light coat, a hat and a torn blanket.  He caught my eye because I had never seen anyone homeless at this gas station.  We live in a good area.  As I walked in the door, I asked him if he was okay.  That's when I noticed his lips and hands were blue.  He said he was okay; thanks for asking.  Two steps inside the door, I was hit with the same power that I had felt when I was in Wilmington at the House of Prayer.  I went and I got all the food from the gas station that was left.  I picked up the hot dogs and a couple of bags of chips and some drinks and I took them out to him outside.  He was shaking from the cold, but I swear I never even saw him chew the two sausage hot dogs that had been left.  I went back inside and I grabbed a 12‑pack of beer and I put it on the counter.  That's when I saw gloves at the counter for sale.  It was though somebody had just said, this is important for you to start to fill your soul.  So I bought them.  I went outside to give them to him and he told me I had already bought him food and he was okay, he would be okay.  He's just waiting until the morning for the bus.  I guess the mom in me took over.  I picked up a cold blue hand and put his cold fingers and hand into the glove telling him, I didn't feel sorry for him.  Just, everybody needs some help now and then.  I would hope that someone would do the same for my daughter.  My daughter has been gone from home going on six years and she hasn't made the best decisions and our relationship is strained.  But he didn't need to know all that.  When I put that second glove on this man's hand, I realized I was showing him more compassion, a stranger, more compassion than I was showing my own child because I was mad at her.  Before I knew it, I asked him if I could pray for him.  I don't pray.  I don't pray before I eat.  I don't pray before I sleep, let alone pray for somebody with five people looking out a window with their noses at the glass.  I wasn't even sure I remembered how to.  But I'm a good one to wing it.  So I prayed with him.  I handed him the money then for my beer and a couple more bucks.  I told him get a hotel room down on Pershing Road.  I went and got in my car.  I saw Sherry through the window.  She was behind the counter.  She had my beer.  I just kind of gave her a hand across the throat and told her I didn't need it.  I drove off.  I cried so hard, I slobbered all over myself.  I came home.  I went through every cabinet.  I poured all of it out.  I threw away every bottle I could find and I curled up on my couch and I cried until my head hurt.  But I think my soul just needed to be washed.  And this was my cleansing.  Today I begin to fill my soul.  It's 5:00 a.m."