Here I go again – Casting Crowns

Face wasn't one for heeding the religious teachings he'd received as a child. He paid lip service to the Catholic Church, felt he owed it as a debt to the Nuns and Priests who'd raised him as a child, checked the obligatory box on the form when he joined the army, when they asked what religion he belonged to.

His lifestyle didn't really follow the ideals of Jesus Christ, unless the Bible had undergone a massive re-write since the last time he'd read it in the orphanage, he doubted it had expanded to accept a string of one night stands and conman-ship as virtuous and pious behaviour.

So it surprised him that he ended up inside the church, staring at the stained glass windows, hands clasped tightly together in prayer, he bowed his head, the words falling from his lips hushed and breathless, a desperate plea for his friend. A desire to keep Murdock alive and well, a prayer that he'd survive the bullet wound he'd suffered.

He lifted his head, stared at the statues around the church and hoped God heeded his earnest prayer.