Hire
Writers
Editors
Home Tour About Read What's New Help Forums Join
My Account Login
Shop
Save
Support
E
Book
Store
Learn
About
Jesus
  



The HOME for Christian writers! The Home for Christian Writers!
The Official Writing Challenge

BACK TO
CHALLENGE
MAIN

INSTRUCTIONS

how it works
submission rules
guidelines for
choosing a level

ENTRIES

submit your entry
read current entries
read past entries
challenge winners



Our Daily Devotional HERE
Place it on your site or
receive it daily by email.





TRUST JESUS TODAY

TRY THE TEST



Share
how it works   Submit

Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Phew! (02/11/10)

TITLE: Anatomy Of A Proposal
By Donna Emery
02/17/10


 LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
 SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
 ADD TO MY FAVORITES

I felt like there was a golf ball, stuck in my throat.

My mouth seemed dry as a sandbox, and tasted about as appealing. My hands and face seemed as sweaty as a sauna. Each breath I took was rough as the edge of a band saw; my stomach was twisted into a simmering cauldron of misery.

I was about to ask Clara’s father if I could marry her.

Clara and I met three years ago and have been courting since then. From the day I met her, I’ve known she was The One. She’s a beautiful redhead, with eyes as blue as an afternoon sky. But, even if she wasn’t that beautiful, I’d want to marry her.

When I’m with her, I’m home.

It’s as simple as that.

Her father had to suspect it was coming. I mean… he’d seen us together. We’d talked to him and her Mom about our future plans, more than once. We both want to be missionaries, and, though I know Clara’s Mom and Dad will miss her, they agree it’s what she’s been called to do. I think Clara is a born missionary; everyone is attracted to the beauty within her; everyone wants to be around her infectious joy.

I do, too.

Forever.

Maybe my nerves came from how important she’s become to me. Clara is an integral part of my future plans. When I see my future, she’s always by my side.

So, I waited, at the coffee shop, near Mr. Johnson’s office. As I breathed a prayer to overcome my apprehension, I tried to prepare myself to ask him for Clara’s hand, in marriage. Old fashioned? Maybe; but that’s the way I was raised, and I knew Clara was raised that way, too.

When he walked into the coffee shop, the mouth dryness intensified – and the sweating felt like it was coming from a sprinkler. That golf ball I’d swallowed now felt like a baseball. Mr. Johnson smiled and shook my hand. That helped a little. After all, he’s a great guy, and I know he likes me. I waited until he ordered a cup of coffee, and then…

"Mr. Johnson?" I started, almost in a whisper.

"What is it, Ben?" he answered. He scrutinized my face. "Are you OK? You look pale."

If anything, his concern made my feelings worse. I tried again: "Mr. Johnson, Clara and I have been seeing each other for three years now."

"Yes, Ben; you have. I thank God Clara has such a godly man in her life."

OK, … this was going well. I had to go for it, now. "Well, Mr. Johnson, you see… we both want to go into the mission field."

"I know that, Ben. You can’t have asked me here to tell me that. That’s old news."

I gulped. But, that baseball in my throat stayed there. It blocked the words… those precious words I had to say…

After a few incoherent attempts to talk again, Mr. Johnson laughed. "Honestly, Ben; why don’t you just ask me?"

He couldn’t know… could he? By then, I’d added blinking to my symptoms, and my shoulders were hunched as tightly as if my arms had been superglued to my torso.

"Ben, I’m pretty sure I know why you’re here. You want to marry Clara – don’t you?"

All my feelings immediately gathered themselves into that baseball, which hurtled itself into the middle of my next breath. That breath felt as if it were suspended on the edge of a gangplank … along with all of my future hopes. He’d said the words for me… which was a good thing, since I now felt incapable of speech. So… I nodded mutely, in agreement.

He smiled broadly. "Ben, I couldn’t be happier. I’ve been expecting this – and praying for you both. I’d be proud to have you as a son-in-law. In fact… call me Dad. "

I breathed; my shoulders deflating, with an audible sigh.

All the chaotic sensations subsided, like the tide at the seashore. The enormous golf ball was gone; I gulped a full glass of water and smiled like a crazy man as I babbled my thanks to him. What an amazing feeling of reprieve. “Dad” laughed and again expressed his happiness for both of us.

“Thank you, Jesus,” I breathed, gratefully.

But, then,“Dad” said, “So… when are you going to pop the question to Clara?”

And … there’s that golf ball, again.


The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.


This article has been read 405 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Laury Hubrich 02/19/10
Great entry! So funny and I love the ending. lol. The phew moment certainly didn't last long.
Earl Taylor02/22/10
Have 3 son in laws of my own; been there and have helped with the question 3 times!! Fun story for me to read.
Jackie Wilson02/22/10
What a fun story, very entertaining! Had me right there rooting for the poor fellow!