Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: CALL (01/14/16)
TITLE: A Sturdy Foundation
By M. C. Syben
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
As I pose on the corner, waiting, I admire my apple red, open-toed shoes. They remind me of Mom. Thanks to her, my feet are in heaven.
Years ago, she counseled that for one to live a life of substance, sacrifice would be required “but whatever you do, Magdalene, don’t sacrifice your feet or you won’t accomplish much.” Mom giggled that sage advice after I tried on a pair of spiked heels, took five steps, and brought down a shoe display. Since then, I’ve preferred platform shoes—1940’s style, soft Italian leather, easy to walk in for hours.
Suddenly, a wind funnels in off the bay, circles under my skirt, and causes it to billow making me appear less modest then I truly am. My sleeveless blouse, with peter pan collar is buttoned up but it’s difficult to find a top that conceals my ample breasts.
My face becomes hair whipped so I pull my raven locks up into a loose bun; my bangs remain helter skelter. 'God, thank you for the breeze.' It gives me strength to get through another Southern August day. I refresh with each breath of salty air.
Finally, a snow-white Cadillac pulls up and the window slides down. “How much, little girl?”
I must admit, I look younger than my twenty-one years. “It’s free.”
“What I have, is free. May I join you?”
“You a cop?”
It’s always the same. Usually people want something for nothing. Offer to give them just that and they become suspicious.
“An officer giving away something free? A cop couldn’t arrest you for that, could she?”
“Not likely, no,” says the perplexed driver.
“So, why are you scared?”
“I’m not afraid…come on,” he says, eyes pinned to my chest.
As I settle into the delightful AC, I direct. “Best pull around the corner where we won’t be bothered.”
“Sounds good. I sure enjoy the way you dress—all innocent like.” He smiles as he parks.
“I am innocent like.”
“Sure, baby. Now, what do you plan on treating me to, you know, free of charge?” He unhooks his seatbelt.
“I plan to pray for you.”
I love the look on their faces before I bow my head, raise my mini New Testament in the air, and begin.
“Dearest Heavenly Father, you have brought this stranger and I together for a precious experience…one I know he will never forget.
Send the Holy Spirit into this car, into this man, into his thoughts, and cleanse every ounce of him.”
This soul is obviously married, so I add:
“Let him remember the ring on his finger. Let him honor the vow that he made.”
I continue. “Help him rise to a level of repentance that he has never known before. Father, forgive him his lustful ways.”
I tell him “Mister, this is where you just agree and say Forgive me, Jesus.”
“Huh, say what…forgive me...Jesus?”
Hm. He’s still in a stupor.
“You heard him, Lord,” I say, assuming his bumbling words count. “Amen. Now, don’t you feel better? God Bless You.”
Sometimes, I leave a john in shock and lay a tract on his seat, for later, when the experience sinks in. Sometimes, he actually feels convicted, cries, and wants to know more about the Lord. That’s real success.
Unfortunately, I’ve been evicted, pushed out the door, mid-prayer. The first tumble caught me by surprise and broke my wrist. I braced for the second ejection and, by grace, landed on my feet, while swear words resounded off the alley walls as evil sped away.
This fellow shillyshallies between astonishment and apprehension. I bet he wonders if he’s on Candid Camera. He peels off before my fingers fully release the door handle, but I think he understands the message. I’ve introduced him to the Holy Spirit. I doubt I’ll see him in this part of town again.
I slip the Bible back in my pocket and step over a man hole that blasts some cool air up my skirt. The unintentional Marilyn Monroe pose works. A black Mercedes with dark tinted windows stops short.
“Lord, send protective angels.”
I’m not liked here. Pimps threaten me for chasing away clients and planting seeds of hope in their girls. I switch blocks to elude their increasingly, hot-tempered intimidations. Yes, answering the Lords call can be a dangerous mission. Thanks to Mom, my sturdy foundation allows me to save unsuspecting souls, one step at a time.
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