Into the Fire

                           
Let's go back to my WIP. Keep in mind at this point in the story the protagonist is not a Christian. 

From Chapter 21

I retrieved the cooler, and we sat on the tailgate and ate our lunch, each of us drinking an ice-cold Coke and talking about miscellaneous stuff to do with splitting wood, the weather, and how we both enjoyed wood fires in the winter.

     It was another hot one, and I admired the sheen of her skin from the heat of our work. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail, and strands of her bangs stuck to her forehead from the hot exertion. It was crazy how much I was taken with her. I had to learn how to handle that lovestruck feeling. My old ways were demanding satisfaction, and I was a weakened man who seemed to always succumb to my past behaviors, seeing no rational reason not to give in to them.

     Except for now, as really undefinable as it could possibly be, I knew the past had no business being in the present. None. I’d moved out here to escape that part of me, and I hadn’t done it yet because the inspiration committed suicide when presented with the opportune moment to indulge my cravings. But now, my craving for her fought valiantly with those ugly selfish traits and behaviors and made its own demands. You want real? Fight for it for once!

     I slid off the tailgate and she followed me, reaching back to clean up what little mess we made. When done, with hands on her hips, she asked me what to do. I struggled with my thoughts but pushed through my utter attraction to her – yes, alright, her body registered front and center – and explained our next steps, thinking I probably couldn’t hide my desire for her. I fired up the chain saw and adjusted my focus to the dead tree.

Father, you always surprise me with new characters, words, stories. Thank you has never been enough. Never will be. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.