Happy Easter, everyone! Christ is risen! I thought today would be a great day to post my new Christian Lab Rats one-shot. It's a sequel to "What I Would Say," so I recommend you read that first if you haven't yet.

At over five and a half thousand words, this might just be one of my longest one-shots ever. XD Woo! It's loosely based off of the song "The Hurt and the Healer" by MercyMe, so feel free to listen to the song while you read.

This is a Christian one-shot. I'd encourage you to read whether you're a believer or not. If nothing else, maybe you can learn a little bit more about what I believe. And learning's always great, right? ;) This story also deals with some sensitive subjects, including terminal illnesses and the death of loved ones. Tread with care.

I don't own Lab Rats or any of the books mentioned. Disney owns the first, various authors/publishers the latter. And God owns them all. ;) Enjoy!

"For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life."
- John 3:16

* * * In Need of a Healer * * *

"They all look like ants!" Casey exclaimed, his nose pressed against the airplane window.

"That's what you said when we took off from LA," Chase pointed out.

"Well, the Phil-eh-den-i-fia people look like ants too."

"Philadelphia," Chase corrected his son. He zipped up his carry-on and pulled his phone out of the side pocket, anxiously awaiting the moment of landing so he could turn it back on.

Yes, a multi-billionaire was riding a commercial jet. Last time he had taken Casey in his private jet, all of the leather seats wound up with black tennis-shoe prints on them. Chase wasn't about to make that mistake again. But rest assured, they were riding in first class.

The plane landed smoothly on the runway, and Chase hurried his son out of the cabin. Casey stopped near the front to accept a pair of pilot wings from the smiling flight attendant. Chase shook his head. Kids.

After getting their luggage—and keeping Casey from trying to ride the "merry-go-round," as he called the baggage carousel—they walked out to the front of the airport. Chase hailed a taxi and stuffed their suitcases in the trunk. His bag small because he was used to these kinds of trips. Casey's bag was much larger, packed with all his favorite toys. Chase was starting to wish he had hired a babysitter for Casey and left him at home; the seven year old was becoming a hassle to deal with.

Isabel would know how to handle him . . . no, I won't think about that. Besides, I'm glad Casey came. I need to spend more time bonding with him.

Once they were sitting in the back of the cab, Chase gave the driver directions and leaned back. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started scrolling through it. Thousands upon thousands of emails . . . and he cared about none of them. He scanned them over quickly, not paying much attention to what they said. He put the phone down for a moment and looked out the window.

"What you doing, Dad?" Casey asked.

"Thinking," Chase mumbled.

"About what?"

Chase was silent for a moment. "The real reason for this trip."

"I thought you had to talk to people. On business. For two days. Isn't that why we're here?"

"That's only half the reason."

Chase held his phone up again. His shaky fingers found the keys. Why was it so hard?

Hey, Bree. Casey and I are in Philadelphia for the weekend. I thought maybe we could come over . . . if you don't mind. I don't have anything going on tomorrow morning. I want to see you again. - Chase

It took several minutes to type out that much. He wrote and rewrote his sentences. The nice thing about a text was that he could fake his confidence. Casey leaned over and peaked at the screen right after Chase sent it, and a smile slid across his face.

Ten minutes later, Casey and Chase got out at their hotel. Chase signed in at the front desk while Casey stared at the snacks in the vending machine. An elevator ride later and they were in their hotel room.

"This place is so cool!" Casey squealed, running over to the window and looking out over the city. "I've always wanted to go on one of your business trips."

"I said you could come if you behave. Okay, Case?"

"Yeah, yeah. Can I see if there's something on TV?"

"Why not? We'll head down into the office in about an hour. Janice said she could show you around. There's a race track on the fifth floor and a game room on the sixth. You should be able to entertain yourself."

Chase turned to see his son already clicking through the TV channels in search of a good show. He smiled. At that moment, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a new message.

You really wanna come? That's great Chase! Do u need our adress? - Bree

"Can't even spell 'you' correctly," he mumbled. Nonetheless, he felt incredibly happy.

That would be great. And *address, Bree. - Chase

I thought you were done with that phase years ago. :P - Bree

I thought you were done with your emoticon phase years ago. You're not a teenager anymore. - Chase

Whatever. You can come over at 10 if you want. I have to leave around 1, so we can have a few hours. - Bree

She proceeded to send him her address and they agreed to meet around 10:30. The conversation finished when Bree sent him:

I've been praying for an opportunity to talk to you. I can't wait to see you again. Love ya! - Bree

It was a small green house with chipped paint and a single black minivan parked in the driveway. The windows were fogged over and various playthings scattered across the front lawn. A lone tree sat near the sidewalk, a rope swing hanging from one the branches. To Chase it almost seemed like a childhood forgotten, like the scene a photographer would use to create longing feelings and nostalgia in those who viewed their photo. With a slight chuckle, he realized that that might indeed be its purpose.

"This is where they live?" Casey asked as they exited the taxi. "Where's the rest of the house?"

Chase laughed. "Not all houses are as big as ours."

"Aunt Bree used to live in a big house. Why is she here now?"

"She . . . well, I don't know, honestly."

They walked up to the front door, and Casey insisted on ringing the doorbell. There were a few shouts and shoes pounding against a tile floor. "What's the password?" a voice called from the other side of the door.

Casey readily took up the challenge. "Open sesame!" Then, turning to his father, he said, "It's always 'open sesame.'"

"Not this time!" the voice from the other side said. There was another person giggling in the background. "You have ten seconds to supply a password, or this door will self-destruct. Ten!"

"Vance!" a new voice had entered the mix, one worn-out and laced with annoyance. The laughter was silenced and the door opened.

For the first time in five years, Chase came face-to-face with his sister.

"Hi," she said, exasperation stretching her voice thin. Her brown hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and a towel hung over her shoulder. She grinned at him. "Come on in."

"Hi, Auntie Bree!" Casey said happily.

"Nice to see you again, Casey," Bree said. "Vance and Lily have been very excited for you to come. Why don't you go upstairs and play with them so your dad and I can talk, okay?"

Casey eagerly agreed and followed his twin cousins up the stairs. The ran all the way up, hollering and shouting as they went.

"They turned eight last month, but I swear I'm still raising five year olds." Bree shook her head and flashed a wry grin. "But anyway, it's so good to see you again!" Bree threw her arms around her younger brother, and he quickly accepted the hug. It brought him back to happy childhood moments when his sister dared to show him a rare display of affection.

"It's good to see you too," Chase said as they separated. "And thanks for sending Casey upstairs. He's been driving me crazy all morning. I think I've really learned to respect Isabel's role as a mom." For a second his face fell—not something he intentionally ordered, but a gut reaction to the painful reminder that Isabel's role could no longer be filled by Isabel herself.

Bree pulled the towel off her shoulder and wiped her hands on it. "Let's talk in the office. Right over here."

She threw the towel on the dining room table to Chase's right. It was littered with miscellaneous items, and Chase doubted it was often used for it's real purpose as a table. He turned as Bree motioned to the door on his left and led him inside.

The office had two desks near the walls across from each other. One was covered with dozens of papers and the largest collection of pens Chase had ever seen. On the other desk was a computer monitor and a camera, along with supplies for said camera. There were also hundreds of stacked photographs organized neatly along the edge. On the wall near the door was a bookcase full of all kinds of books. Chase did a quick scan and caught a few names he had never seen before: Max Lucado, Josh McDowell, Phillip Yancey, and Beth Moore, to name a few. Judging by the titles of the books, he knew why he had never read them before. Most seemed centered on the idea of religion.

Bree sat down in the chair in front of the desk with the photographs. She motioned for Chase to sit in the other chair by the opposite desk. They turned to face each other. Before things could get awkward, Bree said, "Aaron's out looking for a job. He saw something about computer work for a small business downtown. Might be a one time thing. Who knows?" She looked around. "Sorry about the mess. This is the cleanest room in the house, if you can believe it."

"It's fine," he assured her. "My house hasn't been the cleanest either." He decided it was best to stop there instead of saying "Since . . ."

"So," Bree said. She rested her arms comfortably on the arms of the chair and leaned forward slightly, eager to talk with her brother. "It's been a long time."

Chase could tell from her expression that those words weren't really what she wanted to say. "I need help," he said, pushing their conversation in the direction they both wanted it to go.

Bree leaned back, startled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that my life is falling apart at the seams, and I don't know what to do. I'm a mess, Bree. I flew here on a commercial jet. Commercial! I haven't trained with my bionics, I can barely run my company, and it hurts every time I look at Casey because he has his mom's blue eyes." He buried his face in his hands.

"Oh, Chase."

"I don't get it," he said, looking up. "Please explain it to me."

"Explain what? Why people die?"

"No. I understand mortality just fine. We're all going to met our end someday, one way or another. Even if it's uncomfortable and horrible, I understand it. I can come up with rational reasons for why someone dies. I can't come up for a rational reason why you're still happy."

"I wouldn't say I'm happy."

"Oh, you are. You shouldn't be, though."

"Gee, thanks a lot."

Chase chose to ignore her snide comment. "I just don't get it! Your husband lost his job. You live here, in this tiny, messy home, and this is probably the nicest place you've lived in in years, right?" He didn't let her answer. "You're obviously worn out. You've got to take care of two crazy kids. You're barely scraping by on the little bit of money you make by taking photos."

Bree reached over and fingered her camera. "It's a living. And I never said I was happy."

"You're still smiling. I can't smile. Not a real one, anyway."

Hurt flashed into Bree's eyes. "No, Chase, you've got it all wrong. I don't smile because I'm happy. I smile because I have joy."

"There's not a difference."

Bree laughed. "This is where I can tell you've never been to church before."

"So I was right: it is about religion."

"No. It's about a relationship."

"Enough with the jargon."

Bree sighed. "It's . . . complicated. But I just know that whatever happens in my life, God's got it. Like when Mr. Davenport died. That was hard. You think I wasn't sad? I went home and cried for two hours straight after his funeral. I loved him. It hurt that I had to let him go. I wouldn't say I was happy. But I still had joy."

"Explain the difference."

"Joy . . . lasts longer. It's more permanent." She cocked her head. "At least, that's what Pastor Dan says. Happiness depends on what's going on around you—your circumstances. If you win the lottery, that makes you happy. If your house is robbed, that makes you upset. Joy is something that you're going to have whether you win the lottery or you're robbed. It's something that's constant, always there. It's only constant because God is always there. The Holy Spirit promised that He would give us joy, and that's exactly what He does. So even when things are bad, we know that God is in control, and in the end it will all be okay." She chuckled. "But I'd be lying if I told you I understood it completely. And sometimes I don't feel joy. Those are the times when I've wandered away from God. Once I'm right with him again, no matter what's going on, He'll give me the joy and peace to get through the day."

Chase stared at her for a few minutes.

"Sorry if that was too preachy," Bree said, blushing.

"It's fine. I just really don't understand. Joy and happiness have always been synonyms in my book."

"To most people, they are. I think you can really only understand it when you're in the middle of a hard time, and you realize that, even if you're sad about your external conditions, you can still be joyful because God has changed you internally. Man, I wish Pastor Dan was here. He'd explain it better than I can."

Chase took a deep breath. "And . . . you really believe all this?"

"With all my heart," she whispered.

For a few minutes there was more silence. Then Chase broke it by saying, "I did what you asked."

"Hmm?"

"I researched the crucifixion. If . . . if Jesus was real . . . that was pretty terrible."

"Everything that happened to Him?"

"Exactly. I . . . I don't think I've heard of any other religion where the God dies. I mean, He really died! Everyone thought He was dead, and even His friends left Him. That would suck."

"It did. I don't think I could've done what Jesus did. I would've said, 'Eh, forget it. These people hate me anyway. Save me, Father! Let them die! We'll start over!'" Bree laughed. "Thankfully, I'm not God."

"No kidding," Chase said, laughing to himself. "It was a pretty bold thing to do . . . if it was a true story."

Bree looked right at him. "I think it is."

"Do you have evidence?"

"I could give you some, yeah. The best I can think of, though, is all the changed lives. You said it yourself: I have a joy you can't explain. That comes straight from God. I'm very different with Him in my life. I've seen other people change, too. It's pretty amazing. God works in miraculous ways."

Chase was silent, a mental battle going on in his head. He was wondering if he should tell Bree what he was really thinking. He was scared of what she would say . . . of how he should and would respond. He was scared to face it. Yet, it seemed inevitable.

"Do you think He could be working in my life too?"

Even though she was trying to hide it, Chase could see the smile that began to make its way across Bree's face. She swallowed and assumed a more solemn expression, asking, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that . . . strange things have happened. Like . . . you sending me that letter. And . . . other things. One of my employees sent me a Bible verse in her condolence card."

"What verse?"

Chase searched his memory and soon found it: "'Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.'"

"Matthew 5:4," Bree said, the smile slowly sliding back. "Funny. That was the first verse I thought of when I heard Isabel . . ." She left the thought unfinished.

"And other little things like that," Chase said. "Reading about Jesus, it kind of made sense. You comforting me, even if I hadn't treated you very well in the past couple of years. I discovered that a few of my friends were Christians, and I didn't even know. They talked to me about it briefly. I had a talk with Adam, too. On the phone."

"How's he doing?"

"Fine. He said Rachel and the kids are fine too. We talked about, well, kind of the same thing, really. He said he was praying for me to have peace. It didn't really mean anything to me, but the more I thought about it . . ." Chase trailed off.

"So?" Bree prodded softly.

"So it seems that the harder I try to get away from God, the more He keeps popping up in my life. The thing is, even if He is real, why would He be cruel enough to take my wife and daughter away from me?"

"Oh, Chase,' Bree mumbled. "Sometimes . . . sometimes we need the pain. It's the suffering that really teaches us. Maybe—dare I say it—it'll be in your pain and your weakness that finally find God. The Bible says that 'suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character, and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us.'"

"You keep saying He's got a plan."

"He does. I might not always agree with it or like what He's doing, but He's God. It's kind of hard to argue with Him." The smile in her face grew larger. "I don't like the fact that Aaron lost his job. I don't like the fact that we might be facing foreclosure soon if he doesn't find a new one. I don't like the fact that we can't even go out to eat anymore because we don't have the cash. I don't like the fact that we haven't been on vacation for seven years because we can't afford it." She sighed. "But even if I don't like it now, I know that someday I will.

She looked up at him and continued, "Pastor Dan—the pastor at our church—told us a personal story last month. He said that he and his wife tried for years to have a kid, but they couldn't. And after trying for so long, Amanda, his wife, finally got pregnant. She gave birth to a handsome little boy, and they named him Dennis. But when Dennis was three years old, the doctors found out that he had leukemia. Despite their best efforts, he died a few months later."

"That's awful," Chase mumbled.

"It really is. I still remember the way Pastor Dan got a sad look in his eye as he told that story. 'I questioned why God would do that,' he said. 'Why He would finally give us the child we had wanted for years, only to rip him away from us.' He said it was the worst time of his life. But then he started to realize how many other people grieved, too. He didn't like that others were hurting in the same way. He wanted to help them, and he began working at hospitals and with various organizations, doing everything he could to help out families in need, especially those who had lost a children or who had children sick in the hospital. It was at one those hospitals where he met a young boy, dying of cancer, who said, 'Mr. Dan, you look like a Pastor Dan to me. You talk like one, too.' At first he brushed it aside, but eventually he took those words to heart and went to seminary school. I remember him saying, 'I wouldn't have been at that hospital if Dennis hadn't died. I would've been wrapped up in my own little world, full of me. Those hard times led me to where I am today. I still do everything I do for God first, Dennis second.'"

"Wow," Chase said after a few seconds.

"The hard times shape us," Bree said. "They sculpt us and guide us to where we're supposed to be. No one likes it, but I guess the pain has to come before the comfort. The hard part is learning to accept that."

"Could God comfort me?"

"He's comforted me. He's a healing God. Chase, He loves you. And . . . well, you're a sinner. By nature, God can't be with sin. That's why Jesus died. There had to be a sacrifice, and Jesus was the ultimate sacrifice. By rising from the dead three days later, He proved everything He had said; He really was God. He gave up His life for us. He wants to reach down and heal your pain, to ease your suffering, but you need to surrender to Him first. You need to accept Him. You need to believe."

"Surrender. That's an odd term."

"An appropriate one. You need to let go of yourself. It's not easy; I don't think anyone ever really gets it perfect."

"I just . . ." Chase sighed. "I need something."

"You need God. And He wants you. He loves you."

Chase met his sister's gaze. "Bree . . ."

This was it. It all came down to saying either yes or no. Chase could feel the conflict in his heart. He didn't really want to surrender to a God he didn't fully understand. He didn't want to let go. At the same time, however, he needed something . . . something like Bree had. That beautiful peace . . . the joy.

"Can . . . can you . . . pray with me?"

Bree's face split into the biggest smile he'd ever seen her wear. "Yes!" she said. "Oh my gosh, Chase, you don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words!"

He chuckled. "Actually, I do."

Bree got up suddenly from her chair and went over to the bookcase. She removed an thick book with a faded black leather cover. She sat down and placed the book in her lap. Then she grabbed Chase's hand and held it in her own.

"I don't even know what I'm doing," he said. "But . . . I don't think I can deny it anymore. Something's after me, and if it's God, so be it."

"It is God. He's very persistent. If He wants you, He'll get you. The Bible says that 'the Son of Man'—which is Jesus—'came to seek and save what was lost.'"

"So . . . what do I do?"

Bree smiled. "Just say yes."

"Yeah, not helping."

"You pray. Prayer is . . . a conversation with God. It's talking with Him. So just talk to Him like you would talk to me, or any other person you're close to. Pray and ask Him to forgive your sins—all the things you've done wrong. Tell Him you believe. Acts 16:31 says, 'Believe in the Lord Jesus and you will be saved.'"

"I feel weird talking into thin air."

"That's not really what it's like, I think. It's almost like talking through a telephone, except instead of wires, the Holy Spirit—who is God as well; it's really complicated—carries your message. Even if you can't see God, He's still there. Like the wind. You might not see the wind, but you can see it affecting you and your environment. Even if God's not here physically, He is here spiritually. And He will hear you."

"Okay," Chase said, uncertainty creeping into his voice.

"Here, I'll start. Then you can pray after me. All right?"

Chase nodded in agreement. Bree grabbed both his hands and bowed her head. Chase followed her lead.

"Dear Father," she began, her voice soft and melodic, "I'm here with Your son, Chase. I've been praying to You about him for a very long time. He's such a wonderful brother to me, and it's been hard for me to see him denying You. He's been through a lot lately, Lord. Only You know why Isabel had to die. Her spirit is with You now, Lord, and I know that she's happy. Chase is still struggling, though. But he was able to recognize You when You spoke to him. Thank You so much, God. Thank You for answering prayers and finally bringing me and him to this moment. Chase is a skeptical person. Please help him to realize that sometimes he needs to let go and rely on faith—the faith You give to us. Whatever his struggles are in believing in the future, I pray for You to watch over him and protect him from whatever the world throws his way. And now, God, I think there's something he wants to say."

Bree squeezed his hands. It was time.

"Hey, God," Chase said. His heart pounded in his chest. Something about Bree's words made him feel simultaneously calm and excited and uneasy. "I've been shoving You away for a long time and . . . I'm sorry. I know I've done a lot of wrong things in the past, and I've said some terrible things about You. Still, even if I don't completely understand You, I believe. For some reason. It . . . doesn't make sense, and I'm not one to follow something I don't understand. But I don't think I can shove you away any longer. You've made your point. I still don't know how this works, but I know that You and Bree can help me figure it out. I've got a ways to go yet. But . . . I think I'm finally ready to start. One more thing: Thank You for Bree. I still can't believe she didn't give up on me. Thanks for such an amazing sister. I guess that's it, so . . ."

"Amen," Bree said softly.

"Amen."

They opened their eyes. Bree's smile was so wide Chase thought it would pop off her face. "The best thing you can do is find a church," she said, her words tumbling over each other. "I'm sure there's a local one you can attend. They can get you connected and teach you more. I'll always be here if you have questions. Reading the Bible is one of the best things you can do. I think you'll find that it actually has a lot of the answers you were looking for. And pray. Talk to God, and listen for His answer—which usually comes through the Bible.

"Oh! I've got a couple books to recommend." Bree hopped up and ran over to the bookcase, pulling off a few select texts. "'Why Pray?' by John F. DeVries is a good one. That walks you through forty days of teaching you how to pray. 'Evidence for Jesus' by Ralph O. Muncaster is great. That's good if you still have questions about the validity of Jesus's existence. Oh, and 'The Jesus I Never Knew' by Phillip Yancey." Bree pulled out a forth book, a small white one. "'More Than a Carpenter' by Josh McDowell. That one is excellent. You should definitely read it. He started out as a skeptic trying to disprove the resurrection of Christ. Eventually he had to give in to the evidence and accept God. Here he outlines all the evidence he found."

"Wow, that's a lot," Chase said as Bree put the books on the desk.

"Sorry," Bree said with a sheepish grin. "It's just . . . I'm so excited! And I know you love to read. I want to give you plenty of material."

"Bree," Chase said, drawing out his sister's name. He could sense the nervousness beneath her smiling demeanor. "I'm not going to change my mind."

"I know. I . . . I know." She laughed. "You know me, always moving forward as fast as I possibly can."

"I'll check out these books when I get back home."

"Okay, but promise me you will read them. And find a church. And get a Bible. In fact . . ."

Bree walked over and pulled out a thick blue book with silver letters reading "Holy Bible" on the front. She placed it in Chase's hands.

"NIV," she said. "My personal favorite. I bought it a while ago and haven't used it for anything. Here."

"Oh, Bree, I couldn't take this."

"Please do. Otherwise it'll just sit on the shelf collecting dust. No Bible deserves that."

Chase finger the leather cover. "Thank you. You know, this is still new to me. I've got a lot to learn." He looked up at his sister with a smirk. "I've always loved learning."

Bree smiled. "Welcome to God's family, Chase."

Bree insisted that she could take Chase back to his hotel. It was on the way, she said. So around one o'clock, Chase found himself in the passenger seat of a minivan with three rambunctious kids yelling in the back.

"Thanks again, Bree," he said. "For everything."

"I'm so glad you came over. I hope that we'll be seeing each other more often now."

"Me too."

For a few seconds, silence permeated the front seats of the car—Casey, Vance, and Lily were still hollering in the back. Then a thought occurred to Chase.

"Hey, where were you headed, anyway?" he asked.

The car lurched forward as Bree slammed on the brakes, barely stopping at the red light. Chase moaned and rubbed his head. The kids in the back screamed and held onto the seats in front of them.

"Sorry," Bree called. "And to answer your question, Chase, the hospital."

Chase's face paled considerably. "Is something wrong?"

The car started again and Bree turned onto the freeway. She continued looking straight ahead, her grip on the steering wheel getting tighter. "A few weeks ago I took the twins in for their checkup and . . ." Bree glanced into the mirror, watching her children playing with their cousin. They were unaware of the conversation up front. Bree sighed. "Long story short, it looks like Lily has stomach cancer."

"What?" Chase said after her words sank in.

"We're taking her in today to see how severe it is, and how it can be treated."

"So all of today . . . you knew, and you still . . . how on earth do you do it?"

"Lots and lots and lots of prayer."

"I'm so sorry, Bree. I . . . didn't realize."

"No, don't apologize. You needed my attention at the moment. Besides, it was nice to get my mind off of things. And to remember that God is with me through the struggles."

Chase looked back at the eight year old girl. She held a toy dinosaur in her hand and was making it "climb" Casey's arm. "Hard to believe she could be sick," he muttered.

"I know," Bree said. Her smile had faded and the weary look was now even stronger. "I'm really scared about how much it's going to cost. Insurance will only cover so much. But even more than that . . . I'm scared for her. This is one of those cases where I might not be happy, but I've still got joy." She gave a breathy laugh. "It's not easy, though."

"I know I'm new to it and all, but . . . would you mind if I prayed for your daughter?"

"Oh, Chase, I would love that." Bree smiled weakly. "Thank you."

Dear God,

I want to pray for Lily right now. She's Bree's daughter . . . but I guess you knew that already. I don't know her very well, unfortunately. Pushing Bree away meant I never really got to know her kids either. But from what I've seen, she's an adorable young girl with a bright future. Bree said she loves to sing and dance. She's good, too. But she won't be able to do that from a hospital bed with thousands of medications and tubes. They don't have the money, anyway. It would be such a strain on their family.

I'm really new to this. Maybe I'm not even doing this right. All I know is there's a beautiful young girl who doesn't deserve to have cancer. Bree says you're a healing God. Maybe you can work some of that healing on Lily? And Bree and Aaron shouldn't have to go through this either. I know what it's like to lose a child—and I never even knew mine. I don't want Bree to lose someone she loves so much.

Forgive me if I'm being too straightforward or if I'm doing something wrong. But please, God, please heal Lily Shultz. Give Bree comfort. And . . . help me understand.

In Jesus's name,

Amen

The next day, Chase and Casey returned home. They got to their house around ten o'clock at night, and Chase immediately sent his son to bed. Then he pulled his suitcase up the stairs. As he was unpacking in his room, the telephone rang.

"Hello?" he said as he answered.

"Hey Chase. It's Bree."

"Bree! How are you?"

"I'm . . . amazing, actually."

"How's Lily?"

"That's what's so amazing. It's gone!"

"What?"

"Her cancer. Just . . . gone! All of it! They don't have to do anything. She's just fine. Oh, Chase, I can't even tell you how happy I am right now. God just worked a miracle for me."

"If I was doubting before, I'm not now."

"More proof for his existence. Have you looked up those books I recommended?"

"Ordered them online this morning. They'll be here in a few days. They look good."

"They are." There was a pause. "Chase . . . thank you."

"Thank you, Bree. Thank you for never giving up on me. And for leading me to God. I'll never be able to thank you enough."

"You're welcome. I was very happy to do it. If you have any questions, I'd love to try to answer them."

"Thanks. I was planning to head to church tomorrow. The one Isabel used to go to. Casey's excited to go back. She used to take him all the time."

"I'm so glad to hear that, Chase. God is doing so many amazing things this week." A strange noise came through the phone; something like a happy sob. "I can't believe she's healed from her cancer! I can't believe you're healed from your sin! Praise the Lord!"

Chase smiled, even though he knew his sister couldn't see it. "Praise the Lord."

I dunno, I kinda wanted to finish it. :) How did you all like it? And as usual, if you have any questions about what you just read, I'd be really happy to answer them. You can leave them in a review or PM me. I really enjoy talking about my faith. So whether you agree 100% with everything I said in this story, or whether you don't believe a word of it, I'd love to hear from you. I'll answer any questions you have to the best of my ability. :)

All those books I listed were real, and, of course, I don't own any of them. Well, own the rights to them, anyway. I have a copy of each in the bookcase downstairs. ;) They're all highly recommended, especially "More Than a Carpenter" by Josh McDowell. It's a great book to pick up if you're a skeptic or doubting God right now. Or even if you're a strong believer. It's a good book in general.

I hope you enjoyed this extremely long one-shot. Again, I'll be happy to answer questions in PMs. I'd love to hear your thoughts, so please review! And even if you don't, thanks for reading. Whatever you thought of this story, thank you so much for reading. I hope I'm able to share the Word of God through the outlets He's given me—in this case, FanFiction. I hope to see you all soon on other stories! Happy Easter! God bless! :D