If you look at Josh Hamilton's life you would have to say it resembles a tug of war between Jesus and the Devil. A quick look at his Devil and Jesus Christ tattoos reflect this struggle. It's impossible to tell his life story without talking about his Christian faith. Faith, he admits, has put him back in baseball after four years of drug problems that are so ugly you can't blame his family for not wanting to relive them. But because of faith, they do – to churches, youth groups and halfway houses.

Hamilton was selected by the Tampa Bay Devil Rays with the No. 1 pick in the 1999 draft. He was fresh out of high school, where he was a North Carolina legend both at the plate, and on the mound where he had all the tools, including a mid-90s fastball. There hadn't been as much buzz surrounding a player since Alex Rodriguez was drafted in 1993. In only two years, Hamilton became Baseball America's top prospect.

His life quickly went down a long downward spiral. In February 2001, Hamilton and his parents were involved in a car accident in Florida during spring workouts when a dump truck sideswiped their vehicle. His parents had to return to North Carolina because of their injuries. For the first time in his life, Hamilton was alone.

He eventually ended up on the disabled list that May because of lingering back issues, probably from the accident. Someone who was used to constant activity and who had been somewhat sheltered from teammates suddenly had nothing but time and money on his hands. He started hanging out at a tattoo shop.

One tattoo led to another and ended up with 26 images in all. He soon started hanging out with the guys from the place, too. One night he decided to join them at a strip joint, and that is when Hamilton says he had his first drink and tried cocaine for the first time.

The initial high from cocaine, is one of euphoria and a rush of energy. Hamilton said it's like the rush from hitting a homer or throwing out a runner. If he couldn't play, he found a substitute for the feeling. It began a long cycle of failed drug tests, suspensions, short rehab trips, stretches of sobriety, reinstatement and, ultimately relapse.

In September 2003, Hamilton arrived at the back door of Raleigh homebuilder Michael Dean Chadwick late one evening. Chadwick himself had battled drug addiction for 15 years before becoming a faith-based speaker. Hamilton briefly dated his daughter, Katie, in 2002.

He married Katie during a sober stretch in 2004, but within six months the marriage was strained. On the day that Katie returned from the hospital following the birth of their daughter, Sierra, she sent Josh out on an errand. A 10-minute errand stretched into something much longer. Katie called a local bar. Josh was there.

Hamilton cites a day in the summer of 2005 as his lowest moment. He showed up at his grandmother's home looking disheveled. His grandmother couldn't turn him away. But it was only after his grandmother confronted him for using drugs in her home that he realized he needed to change. He cleaned his act up and got a job cleaning toilets and raking out the infield at a local park.

Last June, Major League Baseball reinstated Hamilton after more than three years of suspensions. Letters on Hamilton's behalf from the Devil Rays and from Chadwick, as well as one from Hamilton himself, helped convince the league that he deserved it, despite having only been clean for eight months – or four months short of the mandatory period.

He played 15 games at the lowest level of the Minor Leagues. Eight months later, he was in the majors. Of course, another twist of fate – or faith – was involved.

The Cincinnati Reds maneuvered to get him through the Rule 5 draft. The one caveat: the Reds had to keep him in the majors all season. It was a gamble, but in Reds manager Jerry Narron, Hamilton found an advocate.

Narron's brother, Johnny, was Josh's coach when he was a teen. Jerry had seen Hamilton's talent up close. After doctors suggested what support Hamilton might need to make the against-the-odds transition to the majors, one thought stuck with Jerry: Get Johnny back together with him.

Within a week, Hamilton and Johnny were back together in Smithfield. Johnny joined Cincinnati's staff. Hamilton's welfare fell under Johnny's duties. They were rarely apart. When Hamilton went on the disabled list, Narron accompanied him on daily movie expeditions, They talked daily about baseball, life and faith.

Hamilton made the most of his second chance. He was among the leading contenders for NL Rookie of the Year for a few months, but problems with a wrist and hamstring limited him to 90 games, hitting .292 with 19 homers.

When the Rangers were considering a trade for Hamilton this winter, the Narrons were among the first calls that general manager Jon Daniels made.

Three times a week, Hamilton's past and future intersect when he urinates into a cup and waits for confirmation that tells the baseball world what he has known for 27 months: He is clean, sober and drug-free. He says he looks forward to the tests. He sees them as validation for his hard work and his faith.