The next morning, Jake woke up miserable, sick as a dog, and with an incredible headache. He gulped water from the sink until he puked it all up again, then lay on the floor for what felt like hours, all the while that taunting song played through his head.

If You have something you wanna tell me, God, then just tell me.

He fell asleep within a few minutes and dreamt of Hell. It was worse than anything he'd ever experienced and he awoke shaking in terror. The drugs, it must be the drugs.

I have come to give you life.

Jake sat up straight. Who was that? God? Is that You?

Be still, and know that I am God.

Jake sat there for a moment but heard no further revelations from the voice. He stood shakily and pulled a shirt on, then splashed some water on his face and headed out the door.

If this was a matter about God, then he had to get to the bottom of it. And he was clueless.

He had to find that woman.

He waited at the coffee shop for three hours but she didn't show. For three days, he searched, and searched, until he gave up. It was stupid anyway. How did he expect to find one woman in Charlotte when he didn't even know her name?

~

Megyn tucked her hands deep into the pockets of her sweat jacket and kept on walking. It had been a bad day. Everything she looked at reminded her of Tom and how much she missed him. Even the light rain soaking through her clothes made her think of him.

On some days, she missed him with a sad ache; on others, it was a deep, driving pain in her gut. Today was one of the latter.

A sob built in her chest as she gasped for air. Why God? Why had her husband died that way? She shook her head. Don't blame God. It was your fault, not His. She had been the one who insisted she wasn't too tired to keep going.

They had been traveling from Florida back home to Charlotte at four in the morning. He had turned over and smiled at her, his sleepy grin making her want to pull over and kiss him. They had been married for a year and a half and the vacation had done them good.

"Sweetie," he had said.

"Hmm?"

"Why don't we switch places? You've been driving for eight hours straight."

She had shaken her head. "You get some sleep. I'll hand over the reigns after we stop for fuel in an hour."

Tom had slipped his hand into hers. "I love you, babe."

"I love you too. Now get some sleep."

"No good night kiss?" he teased.

"Nope. It's morning. Go. To. Sleep."

Tom had complied and thirty minutes later, Megyn had turned to watch him briefly, taking her attention away from the rainy highway. When she turned back, there was a large tree over the road. She had panicked, turning the steering wheel sharply to the left. The car skidded but stayed on the road. Tom had sat up. "What happened? Megyn-"

That had been the last thing he had ever said.

Megyn.

When the car had turned, it had skidded into the other lanes. The truck driver didn't see them in time through the driving rain. The eighteen-wheeler had braked just before slamming into the passenger side of the Jetta. Megyn had awoken to the sound of crews cutting away at her car, trying to get them free. She had looked over at Tom and called his name repeatedly. After painfully shifting, she could see him. Or what was left of him. Blood had dripped from his nose, mouth, and ears. More blood soaked his shirt. His head rested at an odd angle and no matter how loudly she screamed, he didn't move. She had stretched far enough to touch his neck and found no pulse.

The next thing she remembered was being gently pulled from the car hours later. She had fought the medical technicians, struggling against the gloved hands as she watched her husband's body being pulled from the car and heard the sheriff radioing that they had one dead one injured at the scene.

Now Megyn covered her ears and shook her head. She had killed everything she loved and was now paying the price. Her chest convulsed as tears rolled down her face. She wished she had given him that kiss. She wished she had let him drive. She wished, she wished, she wished......

What good could wishing do?

Headlights appeared out of the rain and she froze as the driver hit his horn. Something hard connected with her body, throwing her to the ground.

"Are you out of your freakin' mind?!" a hard voice demanded. Megyn recognized that voice. Jake glared down at her. "Are you okay?" he snapped at her. She nodded and more tears rolled down her face. Jake scowled. "Aw, fer heaven sakes! Don't cry. Can't stand it when women start blubbering. What the devil were you doing out here anyway? This is a rough neighborhood, you should be careful."

Megyn sniffed. "I was looking for you."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Why?"

"God told me to."

Jake slid off of her. "This God of yours is going to get you killed. Talking to strangers, wandering around red-light neighborhoods, getting hit by cars. You really don't have much of a sense of self-preservation, do you?"

Megyn sat up, dashing away the tears. "God said that I needed to come talk to you."

Jake held out his arms. "Well, you found me. Talk away."

She gulped air, trying to get her composure. "Do you live nearby? It's kind of wet out here."

He nodded. "Yeah, I live down the street. You want to go there?"

She looked up, feeling a bit guilty. "If you don't mind terribly."

Five minutes later, they were at his front door. Megyn was a bit appalled when she stepped inside. It smelled like sour clothes and old vomit, but to her credit, she didn't react. Jake glanced around suddenly wishing that he hadn't left such a mess. He hurriedly cleared a spot on the ratty couch and they sat. He gestured towards her. "Ladies first."

Megyn shook her head. "I don't do that. You obviously have some questions that need to be addressed before I start talking."

Jake sighed. "Fine. I keep hearing the children's song Jesus Loves Me over and over." He nearly winced as he said it. Man, it sounded stupid. Megyn nodded and folded her hands in her lap. "Does that song have any particular significance to you?"

He shifted and looked at the floor. Megyn silently prayed for guidance, then spoke. "You can't be healed without honesty." Even as she spoke the words, a small blade of guilt worked into her soul. How can you receive healing then? Hmm? You can't even be honest with yourself. She bit her lip and prayed for the voice to go away. She needed to stay focused.

Jake shrugged. "A close friend of mine. It was her favorite song."

Megyn probed. "A friend that....was killed?"

Jake's countenance went from nervous to stormy. He shook his head. "You know what? Never mind. I made a mistake bringing you here. It was stupid." He stood and Megyn followed suit sensing God telling her to back off. She grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down her cell number, then handed it to Jake. "Just in case you need anything. You're welcome to come to church with me tonight, we're having revival meetings."

Jake snorted. "Like Id be seen with a bunch of hypocrites," he sneered. Megyn shrugged. "Id rather go to church with them than go to Hell with them." This obviously made her host even madder, seeing as he stomped to the door, yanked it open, and held it until she walked out. She turned at the last moment.

"Mr. Jake, I'll be praying for you."

"Don't expect any prayers back," he snarled.

Megyn pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders. Would it be too much to ask to have a friendly conversation on a bad day, God? To have someone care?

God cares, her spiritual side chided.

But it's not the same as being held by someone and told that you're loved, her fleshly side complained.

He knew what it was like to have people desert him, the Spirit said. Don't be so selfish.

What if I want to be selfish? What if I want to close the shades, crawl into bed, and just have a pity-party?

Then Satan will have won another battle.

Megyn closed her eyes. God, what do I do about Jake? It's obvious that he needs You, but he isn't receptive.

A quiet voice spoke. "Pray for him and await further instructions."