I often read the covers of the magazines at the grocery store checkout. Beautiful, fit, wealthy, "perfect" people are splashed across the covers.

Tabloids often trumpet the pain of celebrities, while fashion magazines idealize their joys.

Sadly, for some these magazine racks are a source of spiritual guidance. The message is that if you look a certain way, you'll be happy -- at a price. The "moral" this imparts reinforces that happiness lies in accessories, not necessities.

I don't necessarily mean money. Money can buy a lot, regardless of what people will tell you. You can believe yourself happy for quite a while if you have enough money. It can alter your looks, make a problem go away and make people act as if they like you.

Yet we need only to consider Britney Spearsï½ ongoing meltdown to realize money is not the path to happiness. According to the Associated Press, the 25-year-old waning pop star makes -- and spends -- 737,000 per month. More than 100,000 of that amount goes toward entertainment, gifts and vacations. (It's a fact, documented in court records.)

When I learned of Spears' wealth I thought of all I could do with one month of her income -- how happy it would make me. Sure, it hasn't worked for her, but I would be different.

The recent death of actor Heath Ledger, 28, by apparent overdose made me rethink this. A critically and publicly acclaimed actor, Ledger seemed destined for a long, fruitful career. What would cause a talented, wealthy actor to take too many pills, accidentally or otherwise?

So many talented celebrities have died due to suicide or murder, such as John Belushi, Phil Hartman and River Phoenix. Many more have careened dangerously toward similar fates -- Anne Heche, Margot Kidder and Whitney Houston, to name a few.

Upon hearing news of Ledger's death, I remembered comedian Dave Chappelle walking away from a 50 million TV deal. In 2005, he fled to South Africa for a "spiritual retreat." Life had become too hectic, he told Time Magazine, and his departure was a "clumsy dismount" from it.

Many people called Chappelle "crazy." I did, even after he explained himself. He's a smart man, so I believed he could have forced himself to have the proper perspective on his wealth.

But perhaps he saw where the money would take him -- what it would truly cost. He craved spiritual centeredness, and he knew himself well enough to realize money would cloud his judgment.

Life is tough, no matter what you have or have going for you. One of the toughest things for some is not lukewarm faith; it's that faith is hard to come by.

Having faith is a staggering prospect. If, like celebrities, all my desires were met and I were surrounded by people who told me only what I want to hear, I think my confidence would falter and Iï½d trust no one.

We kid ourselves, believing faith must be unwavering and never-ending. However, real faith evolves and grows. Sometimes, we lose it and have no idea how to reclaim it. Rarely do we talk to others about such difficulties, out of fear or pride.

Ledger and Chappelle illustrate why the quest for spiritual sense is so important, if illusive. No one can buy faith. Maybe we have to earn it.

Golden writes the Courier's weekly faith column. E-mail her at {M3onfaith@karrisgolden.com.