A/N: The flashbacks take place after House v. God. Though one can tell, due to my references of Boyd and all.

Blessings,

Bishop Hunter

Sister1 Annie lay forlornly in her cell. She had been raised in the Assemblies of God2 since her birth, and loved the Lord. Why, then, had He allowed her to land here?

Did I do something wrong, God? Are you mad at me?

Annie swept her blonde hair off her shoulder and smoothed her white blouse and grey skirt. The skirt-part of a missions uniform-was made of thin grey fabric, and was long enough to cover her knees. It was comfortable in the heavy Cuban air, and that was why she wore it.

An envelope was pushed under the door. She dragged herself over to the door and opened the envelope.

Dear Sister Annie:

How are you holding up? I keep you in my prayers.

Don't be afraid. He's with us. Please pray for my

Allison. I fear she is not as well as she says.

Annie thanked God for Robert's joyful attitude. Then, she read,

I love you in the Lord! (3)

Your brother,

Robert

Annie smiled. Robert was a pillar of the gospel and a friend to all of the bright-eyed, godly eighteen year old missionaries who were eager to serve the Lord in a country enslaved in false religions. But she still feared.

ONE YEAR EARLIER

Dr. Chase sat on his leather couch, sniffling into his hard lemonade. (4)

He liked to consider himself not much of a crier, though the sobs emanating from him after that night with Cameron did count, after all. He just felt so empty. He used to believe when he was in seminary. But that changed. His mother passed during his third year, and coupled with Mr. Chase leaving with his harlot, well, Robert's faith was on the path to crashing.

Robert remembered Boyd, the young healer he had treated. Though Boyd had stumbled, as all saints do, he still walked away with faith.

Robert wished he had that faith.

Setting down the bottle, he grabbed his leather jacket and left the apartment.

He set out to find a church.

Robert walked the warm streets of New Jersey, looking for the church that Boyd belonged to. It was close to the hospital, so he worked his way from there. Soon, he found it.

Gospel Light Tabernacle (5), the sign over the door read. A hand-lettered sign in the inviting window read:

Gospel Light

Tabernacle

Services 6:30-8:30

Boyd Matheson, Evangelist

Thankfully, it was about 6:20, so Robert came in time for the service.

Boyd was speaking in hushed tones with a woman who seemed be his mother. She sat in the pew, leaning heavily on the seat. Perhaps she was ill.

Boyd gently laid a hand on her cheek and moved to the door.

"Praise God, I'm Brother Matheson. And who are you, to visit this temple of the Lord this fine evening?"

Robert smiled.

"Do you remember me?"

Boyd paused, and then a smile slowly crossed his face.

"You're Dr. Chase. You worked on my case at the hospital, and you're known among all the effeminate male nurses as 'Dr. Come-hither-Eyes'."

Robert blushed.

Boyd laughed, and said: "Come, join us."

Robert sat down on a front pew. The woman leaning on the pew gave him a small smile.

Boyd took his place at the head of the church, setting his Bible on the lectern.

He gave a stirring sermon, letting the congregation erupt in shouts of joy and praise.

"And now," Boyd said, "let me tell you a great joy. Jesus came to this earth for you."

He looked at Robert.

"He died for you, son. He wants you to realize that He sacrificed His own life so that you could live. He loves you. Answer His call."

Music started to play on the piano.

Robert stood up amid cheers and clapping from the congregation.

He knelt at the altar rail, and opened his life to the King.

Robert walked into the diagnostics office, humming.

Cameron looked up from her favorite magazine, Atheism Monthly (Special Edition: Exposing the Myth of Creation) and gasped. Not usually a gasping woman unless the 100 proof alcohol she was drinking went down the air pipe, Cameron sputtered at what Chase was humming: Lord, Lead me On, by the Hayes family. How she knew that song is perhaps another story.

Robert sat down, smiling.

Already suspicious, Allison asked: "What happened to you? Did you sleep with Betsy from accounting again?"

"No. I got saved."

"Oh. So you're a Christian bigot now. I see."

"I didn't say that."

Foreman got up. "I have to…check blood samples or something…"

Cameron and Chase stared at each other, fuming.

They then threw their arms around one another, kissing.

They pulled away.

"I'm sorry."

"So am I…let's work on this case."

They started to read, their minds on each other instead of their work.

Robert knelt by his bed, soul aflame in prayer.

"Lord…help me. I feel a desire for Allison that I have not felt before. Before, I've given wordlessly into my passions without a thought.

Help me…help me to not falter…"

He rested his head on the coverlet, wetting it with tears.

He didn't move until the sun showed its face over the trees.

Allison smoothed her Princess A-Line skirt and modest blouse, twirling slightly in front of the mirror to see herself from behind.

"I hope he likes this."

She had let her hair grow out to about mid-back, and taking the fine auburn-brown strands into her hands, she started to weave a plait down her back.

At this point a petite blonde woman walked into Allison's room carrying a laundry basket filled with somber prairie clothing.(6)

"Hello, Allison. Do you need anything washed? Because I'm not putting my righteous compound undergarments in with your godless harlot clothing. Have mercy, more men have probably seen your tender parts than live on Juniper Creek!" Nicolette actually laughed, even though it was at someone else's expense.

A young woman walked down the hall in a modest blue flannel robe edged in lace. Her nightgown, also blue, extended to her ankles, which finally led to her feet, which were clad in slippers that could more appropriately be called "bunnies."

"Honestly, Dinah7…" Nicolette sighed. "Why are you wearing those ridiculous slippers?"

"Well…they're comfortable. And they cheer me up when I think about that-that-" her face scrunched up, but she composed herself.

"Well, I'm better now. Who wants coffee?" She burst into tears and ran down the hall to her room.

Nicolette dropped her basket to meet her monthly quota of at least four instances of acting like a human, followed by Allison, who had given up trying to coerce her tresses into a modest, godly braid.

The two women rushed down the hall (which wasn't that far due to Allison's small income and low priced apartments) to Dinah's room. Dinah had flung herself across her bed, and buried her head in her pillow. Her shrieks and cries were unlike those heard even during the high point of a Pentecostal altar call. Allison sat down next to the howling woman, trying to pat her back, but was rewarded with cries of protest each time her slender hand rested on the fuzzy flannel.

"Dinah, honey…you really are screaming a lot, you know," Allison said.

Well, Allison was new at actually trying to be interested in other people's lives.

"Yes," Nicolette said. "Leave the screaming for your wedding night.

Oh, have mercy…that's right, Bill"-

"Nicolette."

"Sorry."

They turned their attention back to Dinah.

"Dinah…tell us. What's wrong?" Allison asked.

Dinah sniffed-loudly-and sat up, looking at her friends.

"I've been so happy ever since I met the Lord. And Matthew's (8)

been helpful. But, sometimes I still feel depressed over what Phinehas did to me."

"Who?" Nicolette asked, rather rudely.

When Dinah first came to Allison's home, she found Allison the more feeling of the two, so she shared her upbringing in the Elect with her. That was why Nicolette responded so meanly to Dinah's mention of Phinehas.

Allison dragged Nicolette aside to a corner of the room and explained what Phinehas had done to Dinah.

To everyone's surprise, Nicolette gasped and raised a hand to her mouth.

"Oh, sweetie," Nicolette said, sitting down next to Dinah.

"Would you like a fruit cocktail?"

Allison glared at Nicolette, whispering, "I hardly think this is the time to be offering Dinah alcohol."

"I meant a fruit juice cocktail. We still have some downstairs."

Dinah sniffed and got off the bed.

"That sounds nice. And… maybe some of the shoofly that the Kings sent us?"

Nicolette smiled. "Sure."

Allison sighed. Sometimes living with these two women was a trial, but altogether, it was nice coming home to someone who didn't expect you to give it a doggie treat so it would lick your hand.

Well, except for that time when Nicolette had a "friend" over.

Robert sat in a chair in the Uptown Upper Room, a Pentecostal mission in a small New Jersey neighborhood. The miniscule congregation-fifty two souls-was more than made up for in its zeal. Most services-those being on any day ending in y-had the saints prophesying, speaking in tongues, and receiving visions. This included the sisters of the congregation. Robert was speaking to Brother Brad Thomson, the young but on-fire pastor of Upper Room.

"I think I love her, Brad. Allison. My co-worker."

"And that's wonderful. Tell me about her."

"She has a fierce love for her patients, and a passionate commitment to her work. But…she tempted me into sin."

"How so?"

"We slept together. She was high on meth, and…I couldn't help that desire I had for her. And I knew it was wrong. But I enjoyed it. And afterwards, she slept like a rock and I…cried. I cried because of the mess my life was in, because I used her, because I was tired of relying on myself. I told her the next day that I liked it, and that was the truth, but I just felt so empty. A few weeks later I went to Boyd's church, and his father referred me to you."

"Do you want my advice?"

"Of course!"

"Is she a believer?"

Robert sighed. "No."

"Then wait. Love her into the Kingdom. Show her His love through you and she'll come straight to the Throne of Grace."

"Thanks. But I have another problem."

Brad smiled. "Shoot."

"I…can't speak in tongues. I would think that the Spirit would dispense His Baptism on me by now."

"Why don't we pray?"

They both bowed their heads and started to speak to the One who knew their every need.

A few moments later, brad stood up, feeling the Spirit's prompting to lay hands on Robert.

He gently put his hands on Robert's golden head and prayed.

"Father God, we ask that you give Your son the gift of other tongues as is spoken of in your Word. If it is Your will, please bless this man with your gift. In Jesus' sweet Name, amen.

Robert fell out of the chair onto the pine floor, as if he was dead. Brad knelt, detecting a heartbeat.

He knew that this was God's doing.

Suddenly, Robert began to speak.

He was speaking Swiss!

Brad fell to his knees, murmuring in and out of English.

"Praise You, Jesus. Thank you…"

1. No, Annie and Claire are not nuns; they are "sisters in the Lord" to each other and the Chases. Also, like female Mormon missionaries, they carry the formal title of "Sister".

2. This is not to say that the Assemblies of God are better than other Christian denominations. Annie joined The Lighthouse (Pentecostal-Evangel Assemblies of God) when she was 26, anyway.

3. An appropriate term of godly affection between Christians who are not related through marriage or blood.

4. Are alcohol references allowed on this site? And I do know what hard lemonade is. Like Sister Mary Patrick said in Sister Act 2: "You don't have to bite the doughnut to know it's sweet!"

5. This is not the name of Boyd's church, as avid fans will tell me, but from what I could see of the actual sign, the name sounded too New-Agey, if you understand me. And as Boyd is a brother in the Lord, I can't have the spiritual refuge of New Jersey saints be sounding occultic, now can I?

6. Yes…for those of you with HBO and a penchant for watching television shows that feature multiple wives and clothing that screams "I-look-like-I-stepped-off-of-Love's-Enduring-Promise!", this is none other than Miss CompoundFirst Ladyherself, Nicolette Grant. And yes, I will make this work. Also, I will always refer to Nicolette by her Christian name, and not her nickname.

7. Dinah Traynell, the fictional heroine of Pocketfull of Pearls, and so dear to my heart, is also making an entrance in this story. Imagine: Three women, of varying ages and backgrounds, and places in their walk with the Lord, share a home. Really, this could be a story in itself. Perhaps it will be…

Anyway, for more information, read The Elect Trilogy, by Shelley Bates, particularly Pocketful of Pearls.

8. Her fiancée.