Why Dilapidated Love Trumps All

She loved him, not just because he had withstood his projected passing of time in their relationship, but because he’d proven he was willing to weather all manner of harsh conditions on behalf of her and others. It was as if he sensed how much she loved being a part of this place, how in love she was with the people of this land, how desperate she was each and every time to lend a hand when they were at their greatest need. And he showed he understood by consistently coming through.

A twinge of guilt sometimes ran through her whenever she thought about her original suspicions the day he’d first come into her life. She had grimaced that his tint couldn’t have been a worse match for her – all sparkly white – as he exited the cargo plane without exhibiting even the tiniest flaw on his body. “Whew, you are gorgeous,” she’d mumbled. “You won’t fit in here.” She’d begrudgingly slid behind his wheel. He’d revved in protest to her claim as they’d crunched through underbrush; bounced through merciless, mud-filled potholes; crossed a river whose flow didn’t cease across his floorboards. He’d wanted her to understand that wasn’t going to dampen his spirits.

By the time they’d reached their destination and the mud had sufficiently baked into his body, he could tell that her confidence in him had increased somewhat. On the day he helped transport the first two tiny malaria victims 15 miles across that rugged terrain to the mission hospital, where their young lives were saved, he knew he’d won her heart.

She hadn’t called him by name for the longest time. Truth was, that was the one thing that left him feeling as though he might not ever really belong here – with her. So don’t you know his motor hummed on the day that she walked out and noticed a difference in his wear and tear, his first rusty patch?

Russ is now assured his heart belongs here too.

As you can see, “Russ” (and those like him) haven’t chosen the posh and easy lifestyle

_______________________________________________________

This 333-word story was written in response to the Trifecta Weekly Challenge…but was also written to honor those who give the very best of their hearts & themselves in mission work around the world. (I have a particular fondness for many of my friends who do their greatest work in South Sudan. Though by the world’s standards, we are never on the same time, I’m so glad you are always on God’s time. All my love, -j)

Fun Sidenote (for me, anyway): About 30 minutes after I completed this story & scheduled this post, I received a text from my teenage son, out of the blue, informing me he’d decided on a name for his truck. (Backing up, this is his first vehicle & he used his entire life savings of birthday, holiday, and lawn mowing money to purchase it on his own. It has a lot of character, so I told him a couple of weeks ago he needed a good name for it.) The name he finally chose, you ask? Bocephus. I’ve been given permission to call him “Bo” for short.

If you’re interested in joining the Trifecta challenge this week, here’s the scoop:

This week’s word is:

RUSTY  (3rd definition)

3a : of the color rust  

Remember:
  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
  • Only one entry per writer.
  • If your post doesn’t meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
  • Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

– See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.lHt6PrT3.dpuf

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19 thoughts on “Why Dilapidated Love Trumps All

  1. love the idea here – good job and thanks for linking up this week. btw – LOVE the name Bocephus!!! Awesome of your son to save and work and earn and buy his own first car. 🙂

  2. This was great.. you had me going. I love the water coming in the floorboards but it wouldn’t dampen his spirits. I agree, Bocephus is an awesome name.

  3. I, too, fell for the truck’s pov angle. Clever girl, you are! I am more pleased with your salute to Mission work. I have a former student of mine who started her own school/orphanage in Jinja, Uganda called The Jinja Connection. Her name is Allison and the Facebook page link is here: https://www.facebook.com/JinjaConnection/info?ref=br_rs I am blown away by what Allison is doing to help orphaned street children in Africa. Such selflessness and compassion is breathtaking to witness. I applaud anyone and everyone who puts aside their comfortable life in order to make a positive difference in the lives of those in the neediest, most desolate and desparate places on the planet. They are the true heroes of our world. Thanks for shining a light in their direction.

    • That is awesome, Tom. I will surely lift Allison up in prayer, as there have been some political problems that Ugandan orphanages have faced. Our churches are presently working towards the building of an orphanage in South Sudan. That region, with Sudan as a war-torn country with many diseases that go untreated due to poverty, certainly and sadly has its share of orphans.

  4. Very nice twist at the end! And I was interested in your background. I know South Sudan, and Juba – just hope remember the name. Despite everything the country could have a remarkable future.

  5. Pingback: The Power of Persistence – Pushing through the Mantra | humanTriumphant

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