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Rated: 13+ · Book · Other · #2088191
New pastor takes over a dying church in Asheville, NC (Book 2 in a Dying Church Series)
#885594 added June 25, 2016 at 8:05am
Restrictions: None
Chapter 6-7
Chapter Six





Wesley and Lucky set off on Wesley’s usual route from the church to the basketball court and Thad. Wesley did his best to avoid jarring his arm and not look pitiful doing so. Lucky, always the perfect walking companion, stayed with Wesley without once pulling the leash. The morning light was a peaceful blue and the mountain air was crisp and cool. Fall was coming. The companions walked briskly, hoping to avoid questions about his arm, and even worse, someone who might recognize him from his various television appearances over the past three weeks. Hoping the presence of his earbuds, and Lucky, would discourage conversation, Wesley nodded politely to the people he, and Lucky passed while Enya’s soothing voice caressed his soul.





Rain had fallen last night and Asheville smelled and looked cleaner. Good time to go fishing, thought Wesley. He smiled thinking of Simon and their planned fishing trip tomorrow. Immediately sobered when thoughts of Thelma intruded, Wesley was reminded of how fragile Simon was and how much work Wesley would have to do to keep the grieving widower from giving up.





As Wesley and Lucky traversed the streets of Asheville, with only the occasional stop so that Lucky could stake his claim to a particular pole, fire hydrant, or car tire, the various smells emanating from the local restaurants seduced and teased Wesley. Too early to visit most restaurants – although the coffee shops were open and from somewhere, Wesley could detect the smell of fresh baked bread – Wesley and Lucky changed direction and headed back to the church. Being Friday, Wesley knew that Matthew would be cutting the church’s grass and he would love to visit with his friend Lucky. Wesley also remembered that Susie prepared breakfast for Matthew. He hoped that Susie would remember her wounded pastor when she was frying bacon for Matthew.





*****





Wesley and Susie watched in a mix of disbelief (Susie) and humor (Wesley) as Matthew sat on the floor of Susie’s office and shared his breakfast with Lucky.





“They are using the same fork,” said Susie, disbelief bordering on panic suffused her voice.





Wesley was biting his tongue so as to not laugh aloud. He was enjoying Susie’s discomfort too much. He did not want it to end. “Well, at least Matthew’s licking the fork clean before he feeds Lucky another bite.”





“You are not helping,” Susie glanced at Wesley to see how much he was enjoying the scene. Wesley dutifully steeled his face into a stoic mask.





“It’s not hurting him,” said Wesley, and after a pause, added, “or Matthew.”





“You are the devil.”





Susie, being her usual thoughtful self, had prepared enough breakfast for Matthew and Wesley. Wesley balanced a plate of biscuits covered in sausage gravy on his slinged arm while he ate and watched Susie struggle with her discomfort while she watched her son share his gravy biscuits with a dog – using the same fork. Wesley’s amusement reached a point where he had to turn around, so that no one could see him, and laugh.





“I see you. You devil.”





Chapter Seven





No one mentioned Rosa Lee’s funeral. Wesley did not want to relive the past month and he knew if Loftin had experienced any problems, he would be sure to say something. So he jumped directly into the situation at hand.





“Here is the problem. If I am here at eight every morning and in class or a committee meeting until nine or ten every night then it will not be long until I burn out. Even if,” and Wesley stressed the word “if,” “I am able to get out of here early on Friday and take Saturday off. Things are bound to happen on the weekends.”





Wesley, Susie, and Charles Loftin sat in Wesley’s office as Wesley established the framework for their discussion on committees.





“Wesley, we have never dealt with a minister who had another job. Everyone is going to have to do some adjusting.”





Loftin laughed. “You’re telling me.”





Wesley cut his eyes to Charles Loftin and smiled. “Exactly,” agreed Wesley. “Reverend Loftin, how did you deal with committees?”





Loftin cocked an eyebrow and replied, “The past six months? I only attended the finance committee and the Administrative Council. But then again, I was interim. They never tried to fire me.”





Wesley sighed. “Moving on. I was hired because I agreed to work at the salary offered but...” and he stressed the word “but.” “...I am cheap because of the salary from the school. So, the church will just have to live with it. So Susie, did you solve my committee problem?” Wesley leaned back, laced his fingers behind his head and waited.





Susie’s mouth dropped open, for a moment, clearly shocked. “But,” she started slowly, “you didn't ask me to solve any problem...you only asked for a chart. Which I have completed.” Wesley smiled. Susie was too easy to rattle and he enjoyed it too much.





“Let's see what you have.” Susie turned over the chart. Wesley quickly counted twenty-two committee meetings spread over a month. There were no meetings on Saturday and only one on Sunday night - but almost every other night during the month contained at least one meeting. Wesley looked at Charles Loftin. “Did you ever attend all these meetings when you were fulltime?”





Loftin cocked an eyebrow. “What do you think?” Wesley shook his head.





Most of the committee names were self-explanatory. “Susie, tell me about the Youth Advisory Council on Sunday night.”





“Oh, well, their job is to create programs to support the youth.”





“That sounds wonderful. Who is the committee chairperson?”





Loftin laughed, but Susie answered. “There isn't one. The committee doesn't meet.”





That threw Wesley off his rhythm. “Why not?”





Susie shrugged. “We don't have any youth.” Wesley felt his stomach drop. He felt nauseous and panicky all at the same time.





“None?”





Susie shook her head. “Sorry.” Loftin kept laughing.





Susie glared at Charles Loftin and said, “Will you quit?”





Loftin laughed harder. “Wesley, my young friend, why do you think you were hired? You are young and you deal well with youth. So have at it.”





Wesley leaned back in his chair...clutching the left armrest for support. His past success with youth had been his ace in the hole. There HAD to be kids. Or he would surely fail. “No kids go to this church at all?”





“Oh no. We have a few teenagers but none come to the youth program. And we don't have a youth director. We don't need one, Wesley.”





“That has to change. Guys, that has to change." Wesley surveyed the chart again.





“Tell me about the Evangelical Committee.”





“They don't meet either.” Charles Loftin laughed so loud he choked. Susie started giggling. “You knew the church was in trouble when you took the job.”





Wesley shook his head and waited on Loftin’s coughing to subside a little before answering Susie. “That's true, Susie. But I had not expected a church that had surrendered.”





“I wouldn't say surrendered, actually. But, definitely a little depressed.”





“This is making me depressed.” That brought so much laughter from Loftin that he rose from his chair and went into Susie’s office, closing the door behind him – where he roared with uncontrollable laughter.





“I'm sorry, Wesley.” Susie could not help but giggle at Charles Loftin. “But I believe you are going to be our miracle. You really will. You are going to breathe new life into New Covenant. I just know it.”





Wesley sighed again. “Susie, I am not a miracle nor am I a miracle worker. The people of this church have to be committed to their faith and to this church in order for this church to survive. I am just an unemployed personnel manager.”





Susie giggled.





“Tell me about the Evangelical Committee that does not meet.”





“Well, their main purpose is to, well, spread the gospel and increase membership in the church.”





Wesley stared at Susie for a moment. He slowly shook his head and then placed his left hand over his eyes. With his face still covered, he said, “And they don't meet?”





“That would be correct.”





“So, there are no projects or ideas or programs coming from the committee that is designed to increase the membership of the church?”





Charles Loftin walked in at that moment and heard Wesley’s question. He had finished laughing. “The Evangelical Committee?”





“Yeah,” said Wesley.





Loftin turned around, went back out of the office, closed the door, and started laughing again. Wesley could hear Loftin slapping his office door in mirth.


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