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In Answer to Questions Concerning My Personal Faith

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

Over the past several of years I have been so privileged to meet and get to know many wonderful people through this blog. So many of you are from completely different cultures and have multiple interpretations of man’s spiritual destiny. I value each and every one of you, and I’m honored that you want to know about my personal religious faith. One of the best ways I can explain my faith is to re-post an article that I originally posted on one of my ministry blogs. The article gives the clearest explanation of what I believe concerning the human race’s situation with regard to it’s need of a God, a Savior, and a guarantee of a joyous eternity. So I am posting that same article here in the hope that it will help answer those folks who want to understand my faith more thoroughly.

CROSS - PLAIN, THICK - QUESTS.What Is This Thing Called ‘Salvation’?

“Therefore, if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature (Greek: new species); the old things passed away; behold, new things have come. Now all these things are from God who reconciled us to Himself through Christ, and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation. … Therefore, we … beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.” (2 Corinthians 5:17-19).

“What’s it all about? This “being saved”? This being “born again”? What’s it all about? I just don’t understand it. And I could never get my life straightened out enough and cleaned up enough to fit in with Jesus Christ anyway.”

Ever felt that way? Have you ever felt that you might really like to turn your life over to someone stronger and wiser, who could get it straightened out and make some real sense out of it – give it some lasting purpose and value? But you just don’t think you measure up to God’s standards enough to come to Him?

Well, the good news – shouted loud and strong – in the scripture passage above is that you do not have to measure up to God’s standards – or anyone else’s. You don’t even have to get one little thing about yourself or your life made right before you come to God.

That’s right. I mean what I said. And I can say it with absolute confidence, because God Himself said it first. And He said it over and over again. The passage at the top of this article is just one instance, but, to me, it is one of the most important of those instances. I have two other favorite passages like it in importance: Romans 5:6: “Christ died for the ungodly.” 1 Tim. 1:15: “This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.”

Now, of course, if you don’t think you need a savior – if you believe you are holy enough to live in the presence of the holy God of the universe, nose to nose, eye to eye, breathing the same air He breathes for all eternity, without being cleaned up at all – then I’m not talking to you. But if you realize that you are not on the level of that holy God – that you are not righteous and pure enough by your own merit to live with Him – then I am talking to you – and so is He!

The simple truth is that the work has already been done for you. Jesus did it all. He gave up the privileges of being on the throne of Heaven, came to this earth as a man, and lived a perfect life for you. Then God laid all of the sinful nature (to which you are heir) and all of the rebellion, disobedience, ugliness, and hatefulness of all the sin in the human race on Jesus (2 Cor. 5 21), and put all the punishment for that sin on Him as well. He bore it all for you, and after His death on your behalf, He came up out of the grave – also on your behalf – with eternal life and the right to bestow that new life on you. We have “been crucified with Christ,” (Gal. 2: 19-20) and “even when we were dead in our transgressions, [God] made us alive together with Christ … and raised us up with Him.” (Eph. 2:5-6).

But when we decide we’d like to have that salvation and that new relationship with our Creator, we often hold back because we feel powerless to separate ourselves from sin or the world’s way of life – or even from our own selfish nature. We feel powerless to make ourselves “worthy” of Jesus’ sacrifice for us. Well, if you feel that way, rejoice! Because that means you know the truth: We are powerless! But that is okay. Because the work of saving us is His – and His alone! And it’s already been done.

That’s what our beginning scripture is telling us. When God raised Jesus from the dead, He raised Him up as the head of a body – which would be made up of believers – everyone who would believe in that finished work. That’s what the verse in Ephesians means when it says He “raised us up with Him.” And that’s what the passage in 2 Corinthians means when it says that God was – in Christ – reconciling the world to Himself. That word reconcile means to bring back into original or proper position and make the relationship right again. That’s what the Word says God was doing when He crucified Jesus Christ and raised Him up again and seated Him in power and authority forever. He was bringing “the world” back into right relationship with Himself.

Now look at the rest of that verse: “not counting their sins against them.” Who is the pronoun “their” referring to in this verse? The church? The “good” people? The people who call themselves Christians? NO! The only plural noun in that whole verse that the pronoun “their” can refer to is the word “world.” Do you get it? God was – in Christ – not counting the world’s sins against them any longer. God was – in Christ (only in Christ) – forgiving all the people in the whole world for every sin counted against them. Can you grasp that exciting truth? In the mind and heart of God, it is already done. In the mind and heart of God, all of your sins are already forgiven – in Christ!

You see, that’s why there is no other way to salvation and eternity with God. There is no other religion, dogma, or program that has inherent within it the forgiveness of all sin and the eternal life granted by God. That forgiveness and that life are only in Christ – because He’s the only one who paid the horrible price of suffering and separation from God that was complete enough and perfect enough to buy freedom for the whole human race.

So, your next question is probably going to be, “Well if it’s already done, then what is my part?” Our part is believing and receiving. Even before Jesus’ crucifixion, when His disciples asked Him, “What shall we do, that we might work the works of God? Jesus told them, “This is the work of God, that you believe on Him whom He hath sent.” (John 6:28-29).

Now, I do need to explain that the word “believe” from the original language means much more than mental assent. It means “yielding or surrendering to and obeying.” To truly “believe” means that you give yourself to it completely. But that is the beauty of it all. We do not have to do the work of salvation. We just have to surrender to that work and let it produce its fruit in us. How do we surrender? We simply pour out our hearts to this great, loving Jesus, who has done all the work. We simply tell him in our own words that we know we need what He offers and gladly give Him control in our hearts and our lives. (That’s what it means to make Him our “Lord.”)

Once we totally surrender, Jesus comes to reign on the throne of our hearts. From that position, He can begin to clean up everything else about us that needs cleaning up. You need never fear. Once He has the position of authority, willingly given to him by you, He knows how – and is well able – to do the rest of the work.

So what about that term “born again”? Go back to our original verse: “Therefore, if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature (Greek: new species).” When Jesus Christ comes in, our real man – the spirit man — is literally born again. A brand new species (the God-man species of Jesus Christ) comes in and generates its life in our spirit. (You must remember that man was created by a spirit God and therefore is primarily a spirit-being, having a soul and living in a body). Therefore the Word tells us again and again the we are to be aware of the fact that we are now “children of God.” (Romans 8:16, 1 John 3:2).

Now all of this work is done – finished. In God’s heart and mind it’s a “done deal.” But remember: it is done ONLY IN CHRIST. Therefore, it is only when we make the decision to yield ourselves to Jesus Christ and receive Him into ourselves and our lives that we get the benefit of this finished work. Although it is done, if we choose not to access it, we get no results from it in our personal lives.

You might compare it to the process of getting data from the Internet. You know there is data out there covering the subject about which you need information. But that data will do you absolutely no good at all unless you sit down, turn on your computer, take yourself to that site, open up the channel, and deliberately download that information. So — you must open up yourself to Jesus Christ and all He has done for you, and by believing (yielding, surrendering) download every single bit of it. It’s all yours. It has your name on it. But you have to hit the download (I Believe) button to receive.

So what is salvation? It is the free gift of a loving Father who has paid the deepest, truest, most sacrificial price to restore His rebellious children to Himself. It is the free gift of the brother Jesus, who has given Himself in our place and paid the full price, receiving brand new life to pass on to each one of us. The work of salvation has absolutely nothing to do with us. Our only work is to believe what He has done and surrender to it.

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through Him might be saved.” (John 3:16-17).

~~~

WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge: Masterpiece

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

LILY - credits

This masterpiece is the photographic work of a friend,
but it was a gift to me, so I’m using it for this week’s challenge.
~

Join the fun by visiting this link for the details:
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/07/26/out-of-this-world/comment-page-7/#comment-215950

WordPress Daily Prompt: Without

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

Life without a computer?  Well the story I wrote a few months ago for Julia’s 100-Word Challenge for Grownups takes things one step further, but I think it fits the requirement of the prompt nicely:

QUILL & SCROLL - sepiaThe Written Word

The quills were ancient. She’d found them locked in a closet of the abby. But the points were sharp, the monks having taken great care of them.

Mara sighed.  “Remember, Robert? … Computers and photocopiers?  It was all so easy?”

“Yeah … life before the E-bombs. Who would have dreamed our electronic infrastructure was so unprotected!”

“If the new dictator hadn’t confiscated all the manual typewriters and pencils as well, we could at least communicate to some extent!”

Picking up a quill, Robert replied: “Well, this is how our ancestors printed letters and books. We come from the same stock. So –” dipping his quill into the ink – “let’s get started.”
~~~

Take part in the fun at this site: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/07/28/daily-prompt-without/

Repost: ‘My Dad – A Job Well Done’

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

Today is a sad day for me. My father passed away. But because he loved the Lord Jesus Christ with all of his heart and has served Him faithfully since he was 12 years old, he went right from our family’s presence into the presence of Jesus.  So although I am sad for me, I must rejoice exceedingly for him.

In honor of his life and his loving care of me, I am re-posting this article about my dad (originally posted on Father’s Day, 2012).  I hope it blesses you, my readers.

 

DAD & MEJust what is a father’s most important job? To love? To provide? To discipline? Certainly all of the above would qualify as part of his job description. But, ultimately, I believe a father’s most important responsibility is to show his children what the Father God is like. That responsibility involves telling his kids about God.

But telling isn’t enough. Kids learn more from what they experience than from what they hear. And when children are told that God is their “Father,” they naturally relate that “Father” to the only other “father” they have experience with – their flesh and blood daddy. I have been inordinately blessed by God’s gift to me of a father who didn’t just talk to me about my Heavenly Father, but who excelled in demonstrating God to me. And although my life of 64 years is full of one experience after another of my dad’s faithfulness to show me God, there are three specific experience that are indelibly embedded in my memory.

The Word tells us that God is a father who enjoys His kids. He enjoyed recreation with Adam and Eve in the Garden; He enjoyed parties when He was on earth in the person of Jesus; He was always instructing Israel to have a party in His presence; and He even says He rejoices over us with singing and dancing. My dad has always been able to get into the spirit of having fun with his kids. When I was very small, he bought me a train that had a real steam engine with sparks and smoke that billowed out as it ran around the track. He delighted in playing trains with me.

But I think the events that stand out most clearly in my memory of a dad who was willing to come down to my level and have fun were the episodes in the grocery stores. My mom, dad, sister, and I always went grocery shopping as a family. That’s often a fun experience for kids, but my sister and I had the privilege of having a dad who wanted to add to our fun. So sometimes, if the store was not crowded, he would roll the shopping cart into a clear aisle, prop one foot on the bottom rung, push off with the other foot, and go flying down the aisle, grinning from ear to ear, all for the sake of bringing squeals of delight to two little girls. I’m sure others thought he was silly, but giving his girls such a treat was worth it to him. Those experiences left us convinced that dads loved to “play” with their kids, and they opened a door between God and me that made me sure I could enjoy Him just like I did my earthly dad.

The Word also tells us that God’s ears are always open to the cries of His children and that He is always present with them in trouble to deliver them. When I was a child, I was plagued by a lot of fears – most of them unnamed and foolish – but there nevertheless. God eventually got control of my life enough to deliver me from all fear, but in early years I often had serious trouble sleeping peacefully. Many nights I woke up sick, but I believe most of it was the result of fear. The cause didn’t matter, however. What mattered was that when I awoke and called for my parents, it was often my dad who immediately heard my cry and came to my side. Certainly my mom was equally loving and attentive, but for some reason my call usually woke my dad first. I have lost count of all the nights he patiently and lovingly gave up sleep to comfort and pray for me.

Once, even as a young adult still living at home, I became ill one night with alarming symptoms. I didn’t call for my parents, but my dad woke and heard me stirring around in the wee hours. He came to check on me and found me sitting in the living room, in the throes of, not only the symptoms themselves, but also the disabling fear brought on by those symptoms. He immediately suggested I make a bed on the living room sofa, gave me two aspirin, sat down in a big chair opposite the sofa, and started talking to me from God’s Word. He spoke God’s truth to me until he had talked me back into faith. He then continued to sit in that chair and promised me that he would sit there and pray until I was back to normal.

Within minutes I was sound asleep. I woke once some time later to see him still sitting in that chair praying. After that night I was totally delivered from that physical problem. But more importantly, my dad’s concrete example made me even more convinced that when my Heavenly Father said He’d be there for me, He’d really be there. I’ve never doubted it once since that night.

The Word also promises us that our Heavenly Father knows our needs and will provide for us liberally. My dad has worked hard ever since I’ve known him. He’s worked hard at earning money, at providing a peaceful and safe environment for our family, at serving the Kingdom of God, and at helping those less fortunate than himself. When growing up, I was aware that we were less than financially prosperous by the world’s standards, but we never felt that we wanted for any necessities. And, somehow, my parents’ efforts and sacrifices managed to provide a few extras as well.

One particular experience of provision during my early college years stands out. I was commuting to school at the time so still living under my dad’s roof. I got up one morning and walked into the kitchen, straight to the bread box, intent on making toast. The box was empty. Now, my dad generally left for work a little before the rest of us woke, and we had only one car at the time, so grocery shopping usually had to wait until he was home. When I saw the bread box empty, I thought, “Oh no! Now what can we do?” I wasn’t anxious to begin my day with a very long walk in the heat to the nearest store. Then suddenly, in the very next second, I thought, “Wait a minute! I know my dad. He would not have gone off with the car for the whole day and left all of us with no bread! I know he had to get us bread!” With that thought I began looking around, and turning to the other end of the kitchen, I saw a brand new loaf of bread in the middle of the table. Dad had been to the store to buy the loaf before he left for work.

That event may seem minor to many people, but at that point, God Himself spoke to my heart and said, “You see: In exactly the same way that you absolutely know without a doubt that your dad would not fail to provide even something as minor as bread, you can also know without a doubt that I will never fail to provide everything you need.” I have thought of this incident many times throughout my life. It has quickened my faith each time. And I have to wonder what my life would have been like if I had not had a dad I could trust so implicitly as my example.

Needless to say, I consider my dad worthy of being named “Father of the Year.” He will always be my winner. And whether he is ever awarded any earthly honors or not, there is an enormous reward awaiting him in Heaven for having exemplified so accurately that Holy Father to whom all creation will eventually bow its knee.

Thank you, Dad!  Happy Father’s Day!

~~~


WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge – The Golden Hour

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

Sunrise … sunset … sunrise … sunset … swiftly fly the years …

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~ All photos © Sandra Conner

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/07/12/the-golden-hour/

Friday Fictioneers — 7/12/13 – The Promise

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

goats_and_graves_3_randy_mazie
Copyright: Randy Mazie

THE PROMISE

“Hey, Gramps.” Sighing heavily, Ronnie lowered himself onto the flat monument beside his Grandfather’s. Warm sun soaked him, highlighting the beloved name engraved in the stone he focused on.

Quiet …

“Well … I just got out again. Two years this time.” Tears brimmed. “I’m sure sorry, Sir … for messin’ up my life.”

A twig snapped, broke the silence. Ron looked right – chuckled. “I see your neighbor still keeps your goats. That’s good. They can come visit.”

Ten minutes passed. “I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about what you always told me: A real man does what’s right no matter what.” Tears flowed now.

Reaching to lay his hand on the engraved letters, Ronnie finally choked out words again. “I promise, Gramps. Starting day … I’ll be a real man.”

~~~

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle Wiseoff-Fields. Visit her site to get all the details and join in the fun.

 

Friday Fictioneers – July 5, 2013 — ‘Merry-Go-Round’

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

Copyright - David Stewart
Copyright – David Stewart

MERRY-GO-ROUND


All my life I wanted a merry-go-round. Little more than a big wheel tipped sideways and mounted high enough off the ground to turn freely when pushed. I often passed playgrounds and looked longingly at other children riding – squealing with delight – each taking a turn at pushing.

But Mom never let me ride. And I swore that, when I grew up, I’d build myself a great big merry-go-round of my very own. But, alas, I’ve lived in apartments.

Well, last month, I bought an apartment building. And my first “improvement” project was constructing my dream ride. No yard to work with, I went right to the top.

 It’s almost finished! Yay Me!

~~~

Visit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all the scoop on how to take part in this 100-word story challenge.

The Rest Of Our National Anthem

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

I originally wrote this post a couple of years ago for my “Happy Patriot” blog, but today I am impressed to share it on my other sites. It just says something that I think needs to be said again and again.

Beulah Rest's avatarHAPPY PATRIOT

cropped-flag-on-ship-stretched-sharpened.jpg

In the course of any given year, most of us hear our national anthem sung dozens of times.  But what we hear is not really our national anthem, but only a small part of it.  Every time I hear it sung, I am frustrated at having to stop singing at the end of the first stanza.  We never seem to go on to the end of the song and find out why it is that we can trust that our star-spangled banner will continue to wave, and why we can be sure our land will continue to be brave and free.

Several years ago, as a high school teacher, I was given the responsibility of creating a large production in honor of our nation and our constitution, and my instructions included making sure that the whole community was involved.  I immediately decided that this was my opportunity to include the…

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‘As I Sat on the Bus’ Writing Challenge – Week of 6/30/13 – A Poem

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

OLD BUS -- WIKIPEDIA - FOR POEM
Photo Courtesy Wikimedia Commons

AS I SAT ON THE BUS THINKING — A POEM

As I sat on the trundling bus,
My love was on my mind:
I thought of him so tall and strong
But not especially kind.

I thought about how cruel his words
When he’s displeased with me;
How perfect he esteems himself,
Yet all my faults can see.

I thought about the gifts I’ve giv’n;
His lack of gifts to me;
I thought how tight he holds the reins:
How I am never free.

And as my journey was quite long,
And thinking time was rich,
I thought how happy I would be
If my love I would ditch!

BLOND ON PHONE - dark sepia
Bye-bye, Love!

~~~

To join the fun of this unique writing challenge, visit Bumba’s blog here.

‘As I Sat on the Bus’ Writing Challenge – Week of 6/30/13

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

OLD BUS -- WIKIPEDIA - FOR # 2 STORY
Photo Courtesy Wikimedia Commons

AS MITZI SAT ON THE BUS

As Mitzi sat on the bus, she enjoyed the rhythmic movement – and she enjoyed the respite from the heat she’d been walking in for the past hour. She leaned just slightly against Pete’s leg, both for the comfort of knowing he was there and the reassurance that he was all right. He was her responsibility, after all, and she never forgot that for one moment.

Her nostrils flared slightly as she gradually identified and responded to all the various scents that wafted through the air of the full vehicle. There was the expected scent of human sweat, and that was a natural part of Mitzi’s life, so even though one or two of the passengers had probably failed to bathe that day, Mitzi’s sense of smell was not insulted by it.

Of course, there was the unmistakable scent of cigarettes that clung to the clothing and hair of half the people on the bus – a scent that just couldn’t seem to be erased or camouflaged effectively by any order eliminators. Of course, some people tried to cover that smell with perfume, and naturally, there were several different flavors of perfume and cologne surrounding Mitzi. She couldn’t have told anyone which flowers, which wood essences, or which spices had been used, but she most certainly recognized the scents as natural and non-threatening.

And then there were all the delicious scents that emanated from the grocery bags and baskets carried by some of the passengers. Many days Mitzi found this trip on the bus thoroughly enjoyable because she could sit and sniff the tantalizing aromas of pork, or fish, or – her favorite – salami from the Italian market at the end of Jasper Street. Her nose was hard at work now, sorting through all the variety of groceries, trying to determine exactly who it was who had that salami. There! The lady in the green coat sitting just three rows up from Mitzi and Pete. Delicious! Mitzi was hungry.

But right after identifying the owner of the salami, Mitzi turned her head to the side just slightly and sniffed harder. There was something else in the air. Something new. Something unusual for the interior of this bus. Something … not right. She wriggled in place a time or two, turned her head the other direction, but then brought it right back to where she’d been focusing. Some sixth sense stirred a warning so deep inside that it put every sense on high alert. Even the hair in her coat bristled. She whimpered and moved again, restlessly. Pete reached a hand over and patted her head, then scratched her ear slightly. “You getting’ restless, old girl?” he asked tenderly.

The young man sitting in the seat that faced Pete spoke now. “That’s a beautiful dog you have there, Sir. A guide dog, if I’m not mistaken?”

Pete turned unseeing eyes toward the young man, his hand still resting on Mitzi’s head. “Yes. Yes, she is … and the best in the world. Been with me for 10 years now.” He chuckled and ruffed Mitzi’s fur affectionately. “We’re both getting pretty old, but we keep sojourning on together.”

“She seems very affectionate,” the young man replied. “I noticed how she leans against your leg constantly.”

“Yes, that’s her habit. Feels responsible for me, I think.” He turned his head as if to look down at Mitzi, who had glanced up at him. “Good girl, Mitzi,” he said. His voice had grown gravely with age, but there was still a tone of kindness that over-road everything else when he spoke. His eyes didn’t see the look in Mitzi’s. It was a look of concentration — wariness. She was puzzled by what she smelled – by some strange entity that every nerve in her body was responding to – and she wanted her master to know. Aware, by training, that he would not see her face, she understood that she would need to convey her concern by movements and sounds. So she wriggled agitatedly and leaned harder on his leg, still sniffing the air, her head turning several directions, trying to get a reading on exactly what and where the problem came from.

All of her senses eventually focused on a passenger across the aisle and two rows up from Pete. He was reading a newspaper, his black briefcase on the floor, held snugly between his feet. Her eyes focused and a low growl sounded in her throat.

Pete was concerned. Mitzi never behaved in such a manner on this bus. She was used to riding it, and she never had negative responses to people. But she whimpered now, pressing Pete’s leg even harder. He leaned down, wrapping one arm around the dog’s neck. “What is it, Mitzi? What’s wrong, girl?”

Mitzi whimpered again, then whined openly. “Shhhh,” Pete whispered. “Quiet, girl. We’ll be home soon.”

There were two more stops before the corner where Pete and Mitzi got off the bus. That meant at least 20 more minutes, and Pete was a little worried that some of the other passengers might become frightened if Mitzi continued growling – even though it was low.

But Mitzi growled again, and then immediately emitted a sharp bark.

“Mister, you’d better keep a tight hold on that dog of yours! She sounds mean to me!” said an overweight guy sitting behind Pete.

Pete turned in his seat to address the man face-to-face, even though he couldn’t see him. “Oh, Mitzi would never hurt you, sir. She’s as gentle as a lamb.” Just then, though, Mitzi’s growl and tug at her leash indicated things could be otherwise.

“Hey, shut that mutt up!” another man yelled from several rows up.

“Hey, Pete,” the driver called back. “What’s going on back there? Your dog never gave us any trouble before.”

“I know, Randal. I don’t understand it myself.” At that moment, Mitzi barked sharply again and pulled on her leash so hard that Pete only barely held her in check. By this time, she was up on her feet and pulling on the leash, whining, and giving Pete every signal she could give to say he needed to follow her lead. She looked toward the man holding the briefcase between his feet. Her eyes were focused on the briefcase, though none of the passengers realized that fact. They believed she was looking at the man.

“Sir, you need to get that dog off this bus,” came from a middle-aged woman. She didn’t want to insult a blind man, but she was starting to become frightened herself. Pete stood to his feet to try to handle Mitzi better.

At that moment, the bus slowed to make it’s next stop – still two stops away from Pete’s corner. But by this time, Mitzi was almost beside herself and pulling on her leash with all her strength, whimpering now, more than growling. It was as if she’d traded her natural instinct to attack the “enemy” for her well-trained instinct to protect her master.

Once the bus was stopped, the driver stood and called back to Pete. “I’m sorry, Pete, but I think you’re going to have to get Mitzi off of here now.”

Pete nodded. “Yes … yes, you’re right Randal. He turned his head in an effort to address the other passengers, just hoping they could see his face enough to recognize his sincerity. “I’m sorry, folks. Mitzi’s such a good dog —”  Before he could finish his sentence, Mitzi had emitted another sharp bark and jerked the leash so hard that Pete nearly lost his hold completely. “All right, girl. I’m coming!” he said and began to move up the aisle behind his dog.

The driver took the time to help Pete down the steps. He knew the old man could get down just fine under normal circumstances, but for some reason, today was anything but normal. “I’m sorry, Pete,” he said again. “You take it easy walking from here.”

Pete reached out toward the voice to touch Randal’s arm. He made contact and patted the arm. “It’s all right, Randal. I’ll figure out what’s wrong, and we’ll be back to ride tomorrow with no problems I’m sure.”

The door slid closed; Randal changed gear, and the bus moved on down the road. Pete knelt down to talk to Mitzi. How strange, he thought. The dog was completely calm now. No more growls, no more whimpers. She wagged her tail and licked his cheek. Sorely puzzled, he rubbed her back and spoke reassuringly. “Good girl, Mitzi. You’re a good, good girl.”

As he knelt there beside her on the sidewalk, the bus moved on to the end of the block, and then on to the end of the next block, where it exploded and burst into flames.

~~~

If you’d like to take part in this writing challenge, visit Bumba’s blog here and get the details.

‘As I Sat On The Bus’ Writing Challenge: Week of 6/23/13

| Sandra Pavloff Conner

OLD BUS -- WIKIPEDIA
Photo courtesy Wikemedia Commons

AS CODY SAT ON THE BUS

As Cody sat on the cracked seat at the back of the bus, jostled by the jerky movement of the nearly worn-out vehicle, he couldn’t get her off his mind. He kept seeing her smile, hearing her throaty laugh at his flimsy excuse for jokes. He could still feel the softness of her fragrant hair and feel the warmth of her in his arms.

But mostly he could see the hurt in her eyes – the confusion and – yes – he was sure it had been fear. He shook his head now at those memories. He shouldn’t have taken off like that. He shouldn’t have given up so easily – shouldn’t have left her in the clutches of that family of vipers!

He’d known what their attitude would be towards him. He’d grown up in the gypsy caravans – no confirmed lineage as far as a father was concerned – and the best he’d been able to do for work was traveling tool salesman for the local company. He knew as well as her relatives that he didn’t deserve someone like her. Of course he didn’t. But then who did deserve someone as wonderful as Tess?

Besides, deserving didn’t have anything to do with it. It was love that mattered, and there wasn’t another man alive who could love Tess Montague better than he did!

But she had to make the choice. He couldn’t choose for her. And she had lived almost 30 years doing exactly what Mom and Daddy – and Granddad – told her to do. They held the purse strings, but that wasn’t what put the pressure on Tess. He knew that. No – it was the emotional stranglehold they had on her. That guilt trip they always laid on her any time she wanted to be independent in any way at all. He shook his head again. He knew she wasn’t strong enough to get free from them by herself. Why had he given up?

Well, for one thing, she had held back when he asked her point blank if she loved him. He’d confessed his love for her repeatedly for weeks, but she’d never say it back to him. She looked at him with love in her eyes. And goodness knows, the woman kissed him like she couldn’t get enough of him! But she wouldn’t say the words. And it would take words to make her his wife. It would take words to tell that lordly Brewster Harrison, Jr. that she wasn’t going to have him as her husband, regardless of Granddad’s threat to disinherit her if she didn’t marry Brewster.

But if he had stayed a little longer …. He couldn’t help but wonder if it would have made any difference.

He shifted his position sideways and stretched out his legs since the other half of the seat was empty. He sighed and leaned back thinking that his staying wouldn’t have helped. Tess just didn’t have the strength to choose him over all the rest. As the last thought weighed him down in spirit, he glanced to his left to look outside the rear window of the bus.

What the …! What was he seeing? He blinked … rubbed his eyes … strained to look again.

Was it …? Could it be possible …? Running after this bus for all she was worth …?

By golly … the woman did have the guts to do it!

He jumped up and stalked down the narrow aisle of the bus to the drivers seat. “Hey, buddy, I gotta get off!” The driver glanced in the rear-view mirror to get a look at him. “I gotta git off NOW!”

“I can’t make a stop out here in the middle of the road, mister!”

“You got to. The woman I love is runnin’ down the road after us, and I gotta go to her!” As he spoke the last words, he was already standing on the steps with his hand on the automatic door. “If you won’t stop, I’ll force these doors open and jump!”

The driver spared him a disgusted glance and saw more determination than he could fight against, so he put on his flashers and pulled over to the shoulder, shocking the other passengers into voicing their irritation. “You better get off quick, ’cause I can’t sit here!” he ordered.

Cody punched the air with a “thumbs-up” sign, and the second the door opened he and his suitcase were on the ground. A quick salute to the driver was all he managed before the bulky vehicle lumbered away, with all gears grinding and a thick cloud of exhaust fumes burning Cody’s nostrils.

But he didn’t really notice. Because as soon as the cloud of exhaust cleared enough for him to see through the haze, Tess was all that filled his mind. She had run until she had collapsed to her knees, and she obviously had no breath left to speak. But she was beautiful. And her eyes told him everything he needed to know.

~

If you enjoyed this story, you might like the companion story — Tess’ side of the story — which I wrote for the Friday Fictioneers challenge this week. Here’s the link to the story from Tess perspective: “Racing for a Second Chance”

To take part in the challenge visit Bumba’s blog here.

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