Disclaimer: I do not own the Bible, obviously.

Melissa Johnson's hand shook uncontrollably as it reached for the door handle to the small church she'd grown up in. She had opened this door so many times in her life – mostly on Sundays and Wednesdays – but it had been several years since she'd been here. She couldn't help but wonder why she was even here now, when she had barely though about God for ten years and was now at her worst.

After opening the doors to the church, she looked in and noticed that little had changed since she was last in the building. Some of her earliest memories were stored within its walls. Everyone's head turned when she walked in. She noticed that the members that she remembered had aged and that there were some new faces. She also noticed that a few of the people she used to be accustomed to seeing at least weekly weren't present and were very likely no longer alive.

Among the people was her Uncle Peter – who was also the pastor – standing up and looking at her with a face mixed with curiosity, disappointment, and surprise. She forced a smile at him and sat down on the back row and he turned his head and spoke to another person. After she sat down, everyone went back to talking, and she had a feeling some of the talk had been about her.

Melissa looked at her watch and saw that it read five minutes until eleven, meaning that she still had time to leave before services started. She should leave. Why was she even here anyway? She knew that she most likely wasn't welcome and that she had absolutely no business being here when she'd spent a decade away.

The last time she had been here, she was still eighteen-and-wild Melissa Ann Garrison. She left the moment she graduated, leaving only a letter to her parents and no explanation to any of her friends. She didn't feel the need to tell anyone of her plans; everyone knew that for two years she hated living there. She had hated it since she found herself pregnant at sixteen and so very confused. She had had an abortion and tried to hide it from her parents, who completely flipped when they found out. She hated them for being so judgmental and closed-minded and immediately decided to leave as soon as she could.

And leave she did. She left and went to college. She continued living a life that involved little but drinking, partying, and sex for six months. Then she met David Johnson, who she married and started a family with. She managed to get out of the life she had been leading and into a new one that involved a career, a husband, and motherhood. But despite the changes she made, she found no need for God in her life. She had been perfectly happy, and since David had been agnostic, had never attended church. She didn't even contact her parents.

Her life had been perfect until about three months ago. She had a faithful and loving husband and two sons – Davey and Luke – who she'd do anything for. But then the biggest tragedy she'd ever known happened. David left to pick up Davey and Luke from school and never came home. David and Davey had died by the time the ambulance appeared at the scene of the car crash. Luke suffered unconscious a week in the hospital before dying. During that week, she found herself feeling completely hopeless. She found herself drinking and praying for the first time in years, she found herself begging and cursing God, and she found herself on the edge of insanity with worry.

And then Luke died. Her beloved, bright-eyed, six-year old, innocent son joined his father and brother in death. That was when she felt completely empty; she had been torn in pieces when her husband and oldest son died, but at least she still had the hope that her youngest would live. But when Luke died, he took the last shred of hope she had.

In the following weeks she lost everything her job and her home. All she had know was a car that held the few belongings she'd saved – some clothes, two photo albums, and some personal items that had sentimental value to her. She didn't care how bad off she was – she felt as if she had nothing to live for and often found herself wishing that she could die or at least have the courage to commit suicide.

And then about two weeks ago she found out she was pregnant and for the first time since the death of her family thought of where her life was going to go. She immediately ruled out abortion – she had regretted her previous one the moment she first held Davey in her arms. She knew that she had to find a way to raise this child. It was all she had left of David and the only thing she had to live for. But how was she – jobless, alone and so very empty – going to support a child?

Melissa found herself thinking more about God. Somehow now, she knew of his existence. She couldn't explain why – she had fewer reasons now to believe in God than ever before. What kind of God allowed so much tragedy? and If God does exist, why did he take my family – the only thing that ever truly made me happy – away from me? were questions sheconstantly asked herself. And yet despite these doubt, she could feel that God did exist, even though she had spent a decade ignoring and denying him.

Seeing no other option, she drove back to her hometown…back to the church she was now sitting in. She felt as if she shouldn't be here, as if it was to late, as if nothing was ever going to turn out right…she felt just as helpless as when Luke was lying in that hospital so weak and frail and all she could do was sit by his bedside and cry and hope.

Looking at her watch again, Melissa noticed she only had two minutes to go until the service started. She glanced around her again and noticed that more people had arrived. Her eyes stopped as they met a familiar set of green eyes. It can't be she thought at first.

But it was…it was her brother, Paul Garrison, looking at her with an expression that had mirrored the one that her uncle had given her earlier. What was he doing here? Last time she saw him, he had left town saying that he would never again step foot in this town, and yet here he was at the church they grew up in. They stared at each other until a smiling blonde-haired little girl tugged at his jacket to get his attention. Melissa assumed the girl to be her niece.

She continued to glance around and noticed her younger sister Mary chatting animatedly with who Melissa recognized to be Hannah Granger. Smiling at the thought that her sister seemed just the same as ever, she continued searching through the faces.

Melissa began to worry when she didn't see any sign of her parents. Where were they? They never missed church unless they were extremely sick.

She didn't have time to contemplate the whereabouts of Martha and Simon Garrison, for the music of the piano started. She picked up a hymnbook – service was starting.

-()-

Author's Notes: This just hit me, and I had to write it. I hope that you've liked it so far. Please review – any comments (good or bad) are appreciated and taken into account unless it is a pointless flame (criticism is ok, though).