My world had changed. I struggled to understand the voice that whispered in me…this might be pretty nice. I was halfway from Los Angeles to Sacramento when I realized I’d passed the last gas station for fifty miles. The thin orange needle teetered over the white “E” at the bottom of the fuel gauge. It was just after midnight and my old pickup truck began to cough and sputter as its insatiable thirst for gasoline was no longer quenched.