The Missionary

[soldierboy234]

Kolambe Village, Cameroon, near the Nigerian Border

Jesse Collins looked at his wife, Emma, who was playing with the children of the village. She was teaching them hide and seek. They were here with the mission funded by their church. Her church, actually. Of Irish descent, he was originally Catholic. But he had converted shortly before they married. Her church required it, and he wanted her happiness, so he had done it. They had been married for a little over a year; this was their honeymoon. Fine with him. He had seen enough of the world, having spent most of his adult life living out of a duffel bag. He thought back to the day they had met.

THREE YEARS EARLIER, MERIDIAN MISSISSIPPI.

Sergeant Jesse Collins, U.S. Army, sat in a small diner outside Meridian. He was just passing through on his way home to Louisiana, but he needed to stop, stretch the muscles, and get some coffee. He was stationed at Fort Knox, Kentucky, and had been driving all night to get home to take some well deserved leave. He had just returned from a year long tour in Iraq, and needed the break. Especially after the things he had seen. It was then that he heard her voice. It caught his attention. She had walked in. She was on her lunch break. And she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He must have been staring, because she looked at him and asked, " Can I help you? "

" Sorry. " he said, turning back to his coffee.

She cocked her head, intrigued. And walked over to him and sat down. She ended up staying through her lunch break. She wanted to know about this stranger whose eye she had caught. They ended up trading phone numbers, and he left that afternoon to head home.

He stayed for a week at home, and realized that he was hooked. He thought about her all the time, and ended up cutting his leave short a week so he could head back up to Meridian. Imagine her surprise when he called her from the diner, asking her to come over when she got off work. She met him there, surprised he would make such a move so soon.

She was intrigued. He was an army truck driver, he was stationed in Kentucky, and he had just finished a tour in Iraq.

She, on the other hand, was a secretary in a Medical Research Facility, who went to church regularly, and did missionary work with her church.

They were both smitten, but they decided to take it slow.

She never asked him about his time in Iraq. He refused to talk about it. He didn't mind that she wanted to wait to get married. He told her he would wait forever for her. It was hard on him, but he managed. Finally he took the ultimate step. One day they went to church, where, after disappearing into the back, he came out and was baptized into her church. He never told her, but she knew he had done it for her.

He finished his second tour, and decided to get out. She had asked him why, because she knew he loved the army, but he simply told her he had had enough. Two months later, he proposed to her.

AND NOW....

He laughed as the kids began running circles around her. He, on the other hand, had been working with the men on the outer buildings of the mission, patching holes on the roofs. This place had seen a lot of war, but at this moment, he was more at peace than he had ever been.

Jesse Collins had never told Emma the truth about his time in the army. He HAD enlisted as a truck driver. But he had a talent for shooting. He was so good that after his AIT, they had sent him to Fort Benning, then to Bragg, where he had been re-classed as a sniper. He had spent a year in Iraq; not on the lines, but behind them. He hadn't killed soldiers. His targets were less visible, making them more dangerous. He had earned a title over there. Among the Muslims, he was known as the Right Hand of Satan. Among his peers, he was simply known as " Killshot. "

[soldierboy234]

As the children ran and played, Emma walked over to him and sat down. He put down his hammer and sat next to her. " You okay? " she asked.

" Just enjoying the sight of you playing with the kids. " he said.

" Do you want them? " she asked.

" Kids? " he asked. She nodded.

" Of course. But not now. Wait until we get home. " he said.

" Okay. I'll hold you to that. " she said. He didn't voice his immediate concern; he had no job waiting for him. She'd go back to the research facility, but he wouldn't have her supporting him. He supposed he could get on with the local sheriff's department; her father was a Captain. He'd look into it.

And then the shots rang out, and people started screaming.

[alston]

Love it, Dave – but then I am a talker learning to be a listener. Smiled about the noisy neighbourhood when being a polite listener is a disability. Sounds to me like an alive sort of neighbourhood. Middle class politeness can be stultifying. The only qualifier should be what you say when you open your trap. Is something encouraging, creative, prophetic emerging. Too often in our society people have kept and are keeping their traps shut while injustice abounds. Now opening your mouth on such a topic does not win friends and doesn’t always influence people – but the examples from our faith tradition tell us that we need to speak out anyway so that people can hear. If they ignore, that’s their moral responsibility. We have fulfilled ours.