"If God's will is not a feeling, and if God's will is not a formula, What is God's will?" -Terry Crist

Spencer made his way through the Bennington Sanitarium, eyes looking for the familiar face of his Mother. When he finally found her in the library, he felt relieved. He sat in front of her, and waited. When she looked up, her eyes were alight with joy.

"Spencer. What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to ask you something."

"What?"

He explained to her about the case they had worked on the past week and the unexplainable things that had happened to him when he had died in Tobias Hankel's shed. He paused a moment, unsure of how to ask his question.

"Mom, why do you believe in God?"

She gave him an inscrutable look.

"Come with me."

He followed her to her bedroom and watched her shut the door.

"Sit down, baby."

He obeyed, and watched as she sat across from him on her bed. She seemed to be searching for the right words.

"When I was pregnant with you, I went off my medication." She began. He nodded, remembering an earlier conversation they'd had on the subject. "I couldn't go to work in my condition, so I stayed at home while your father went to work."

Spencer looked at her bizarrely. "He left you home alone with knives in the house?"

"He locked away everything that could be used for me to hurt myself."

Spencer nodded, and she continued on. "I was eight months along when one day I started bleeding. I drove myself to the hospital. They told me that I was in danger of losing you. I begged God to save you. Even if it meant I wouldn't be there to watch you grow up." He heard her voice tremble, and it made his heart wretch in his chest. He put his hand on hers, but she couldn't look at him.

"I had already lost a child before. I was absolutely terrified of losing you."

She took in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself.

"They managed to stop the bleeding, but You were still in danger. I laid there, praying for hours on end. When your father got there he held onto me while I cried and we prayed together. But I had preeclampsia and the doctors said it would take a miracle to save you."

Spencer listened to her, riveted by her words. She had never told him this story before.

"They induced labor and I had to deliver you early. I was so scared, but when you came, you were perfectly healthy. The doctors said it was like nothing they had ever seen. My blood pressure was still high, but it was going down slowly. When I finally got to hold you, I knew that everything would be alright. He saved your life. I couldn't have asked for a better gift from God. That's how I knew he was real, and that's how I came to believe."

"But you were never really spiritual when I was growing up."

"Because I didn't want to force my religion on you. My parents dragged me to church every week and I hated it. I wanted you to develop your own beliefs, without bias."

"How come you never told me this before?"

"Because it wasn't time for you to know yet."

His face was wrought with confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"There's a time and a place for everything. I knew someday you would ask me these questions. I didn't want to tell you a story you had heard before."

"But why?"

"Because it takes the impact of the truth away."

At that, he could not formulate a response. He paused a moment, deep in thought.

"Dad believed in it too?"

"Yes, although it didn't impact him as deeply as it did me."

For a long while he was quiet, before turning the conversation to more neutral topics. When he could think of nothing else to say, he thanked her, gave her a kiss, and then headed out. For a while he didn't know where he was going. Until he saw a church on a nearby street and pulled into the parking lot.

When he got out, he could not help from staring at it, as if it were an alien. As a man of science, he had resigned himself to believing in statistics, facts, and figures. He had always had explanations for everything in his life. Until now. Now he was presented with two things that were unexplainable. How was he supposed to deal with that? Hesitantly, he opened up the double doors and went inside.

The narthex was barren except for a few cabinets settled on the floor. There were two large stain glass doors propped open, and when he went through them, the church was bathed in an almost pink light. Lining the two side walls next to the pews were pictures of saints. There was a wooden bar a few feet above that where several small vases of flowers were set. Above that were the stations of the cross on the left side, and the seven sacraments of the Catholic Church on the right. But what really drew his eye was a huge gold cross above the altar, with stain glass behind it. He couldn't take his eyes off of it as he walked toward it unconsciously. He stopped right in front of the altar. Around the sides were cushions and railing, meant for use at communion. He almost went to use those, but decided it was a step too far and sat in a pew, deep in thought.

He had never felt motivated to look into the subject of Christian apologetics- if God existed, why he let things happen, etcetera. He always felt that religion tended to do more harm than good- particularly when it came to some of the unsubs he faced within his line of work. He didn't know what he believed in when it came to that. He supposed that the pain of his father leaving combined with the senseless slaughterings he had seen on the job had made him start to question what kind of loving God would let that happen. Sure, his parents had taught him the bible, but he had also learned the Torah, Qua Ran, and several other religious texts. He hadn't grown up with religion, so it hadn't permeated his life the way it did with other people. But now there were these two instances where logic couldn't be applied- where facts and figures couldn't help him. Without them as a crutch, he had never felt more lost. It was truly frightening.

"Can I help you?" A voice echoed through the church. He looked up startled from his thoughts to see a priest lighting candles at the altar. He was a rather tall man with brown hair and a kind smile. He stepped down from the altar, bowed to the cross, and then turned toward Spencer.

"I'm not sure." Spencer said after a while. The priest waited, for there seemed to be more to his statement. "I face death on a daily basis at my job. I put my faith in facts and figures, and so far it's worked for me. But now I have something I can't explain, I don't know how to handle it."

"Are you a Christian, young man?"

"I'm not really anything when it comes to religion."

The priest nodded. "Most people focus so deeply on religion and tradition that they often don't realize that the most basic fundamental need in a person is a relationship with God. There is a distinct difference between religion and a relationship with God. Anyone can have a religion. They can go through the motions and call themselves Christians, but it takes work and dedication to build a relationship with God. There's a good reason why atheists and agnostics find fault with God, and it's because most people who claim to serve him only serve themselves."

Spencer nodded. It was an accurate description.

"When you have a relationship with God, you learn the distinction between his thoughts and your own. You learn how to hear his voice and how to speak to him. This is important to understand when you're in a season where he looks distant. We all have different ones in our lives. Some where God feels close at hand and others when he seems far away. But he never truly leaves our side. Sometimes he may test our faith with trials and change, but only to make it stronger. Perhaps that is why you are here."

"Maybe." He admitted. He didn't know what had driven him here. Perhaps this was his spirit's way of looking for answers. He had always been unshakable, but that was mostly because he had never had any faith to shake. Now all he had ever known had failed him. He had only faith to lean on.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." Said the priest.

"Matthew 11 , verses 28-30 ." He responded automatically.

The priest nodded. "I find that that passage has helped me with many of my own struggles. I hope it can help you with yours."

"Thank you, father."

"You're welcome."

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Not at all."

"With everything going on in the world today, how can you still believe that there's a loving God out there?"

He smiled thoughtfully. "I get asked that question all the time, and my answer is always the same. When God created us, we were meant to spend forever in paradise with him. But when we fell from grace, he gave us free will. He wants us to choose him. And even after we reject him again and again, he sent his son to die for our sins. He wiped the slate clean and gave us that chance for paradise again. The bad things that happen in the world are of man's own making, not the work of a loving God who has given us endless opportunities to be with him always."

"Thank you." Said Spencer, quietly. The priest nodded.

"If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know." With that, he went to the narthex to meet with a deacon.

Spencer sat there for a minute, unmoving. He mulled everything over again in his mind, and made a decision. He bent over and pulled out the kneeler to pray silently for the first time.

God, I don't know if you can hear me, but I need someone to lean on. Someone who can give me the answers I crave. I have never known the unexplainable. I have relied on logic and facts. But now I have to have faith, and I don't know if I'm strong enough to do that. If you can hear me, help me. I want you to come into my heart.

It felt like throwing diamonds into a river, praying to this God he'd never believed in. But right after his prayer, he felt an inexplicable sense of peace. He was able to come to terms with the fact that there were some things that he just couldn't explain. Slowly, he started to read the bible and even go to church when he had free time on a Sunday. But the most marked difference of all in him was the joy and peace that he radiated. Even in the worst of circumstances he was able to keep that spirit. He finally understood what the preacher meant by having a relationship with God.

God's love had changed him absolutely, and he had strengthened Spencer's life. When he looked back on it, he was excited to share his journey of faith, and planned to tell his mother all about it the next Sunday.

"It is a dynamic approach to life. It is a relationship with a loving father who has nothing but the best interests for you." -Terry Crist

To hear the sermon that inspired this fic, go to search for city of grace in your browser, click the link to the church in Arizona. Once on the site, Click media, sermons, "Speak, We're Listening", and "Direction".