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By June Foster

I received a call this week that my 93 year old aunt is nearing the time when the Lord will call her home. She’s been unconscious for a couple of days. I’ll be sad that I won’t be able to talk to her on the phone any longer or take her out to lunch for her birthday again. I won’t hear her sweet laugh any longer.

I wondered how I could pray for her and the Lord gave me a beautiful prayer. Any elderly person who’s sick could benefit from this:

Lord, so fill (put in the person’s name) with Your Holy Spirit, Your presence, and Your love that there is barely any room left for pain and disease.

I’ll miss my aunt, but praise be to the Lord, she is a believer. We’ve talked about how we’ll see each other again in the next life. If I’m sure of anything, I’m positive of the reality of Heaven.

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints. Psalm 116:15

Good bye, Aunt Gina. I love you.

Virginia Mills 1909-2013

June Foster

June Foster is a retired teacher with a BA in Education and a MA in counseling. She writes full time and travels in her RV with her husband Joe. June has written four novels for Desert Breeze Publishing. The Bellewood Series, Give Us This Day – February 1, 2012, As We Forgive – September 1, 2012, and Deliver Us – April 1, 2013, and Hometown Fourth of July – July 1, 2012. June’s book, Ryan’s Father, will be available from WhiteFire Publishing January 2014. For All Eternity, Red and the Wolf, and Misty Hollow, God willing, will be published in the near future. June loves to write stories about characters who overcome the issues in their lives by the power of God and His Word. June uses her training in counseling and her Christian beliefs in creating characters who find freedom to live godly lives.

A man on his knees with his back to her scrubbed the tile with a large brush. His muscular shoulders visible through his brown janitor’s shirt tensed and relaxed with every stroke. She’d never seen a custodian put so much effort into his work as he sank the bristles into the tiles.

He stood and pulled his mop from the back of his cart. With long swipes, he drew the sponge over the suds, and rinsed it in the clear water of his red plastic pail. When he glanced up, their eyes connected.

Riley? Her pulse jolted. Did he work…?

The door to the OR flew open, and Jett walked out. He removed his mask and shrugged his shoulders. Without slowing his pace, he whisked past her and lowered his voice. “A lucky call this time, Jillian.”

Lucky call? How could he say that? A precious life had held in the balance.

Jillian’s exhausted body folded into a chair at the end of the hall near the OR. The pent-up emotion wouldn’t wait any longer. A baby had almost died today. Sobs shook her shoulders.

“What… what did you say to her?” A quiet masculine voice muttered. With a few steps forward, Riley peered at Jett. “I think you owe her an apology.” He dropped his gaze to the floor.

“What the…” Jett drew his fist in front of him.

In disbelief, Jillian stood transfixed.

Jett glared at Riley, tapping his chest over and over. “Who do you think you are, you lowlife?”

She bit her lip and rushed to them, grasping Jett’s arm. This couldn’t be happening.

With an easy shake, Jett brushed her away. He curled his lip and grabbed the front of Riley’s shirt with both hands. “This is none of your business.” He released Riley, placed his palms on his chest, and shoved him hard.

When Riley lost his footing on the wet floor, he stumbled backward and landed on his rear-end. Scrambling to his feet, he glanced back at the area he’d cleaned. He shook his head. “And I deserve to be fired. I’m sorry.”

“Riley, wait.” Jillian took a few steps toward the men again. “Jett, calm down.”

She worked her way between Jett glaring at Riley who hung his head like a bad dog. “Why did you say that to Dr. Camp?”

“I…I thought he said something that upset you.” Riley lifted tortured eyes. “Your face paled.”

Riley must’ve thought Jett spoke an offensive word to her. Her heart softened. He had only wanted to shield her from pain. To protect her. Compassion for the man, even concern, built in her. The sweet guy thought he was doing the right thing.

Jett held two fists in front of his chest, still on guard.

“Riley is a friend.” She blew out a breath.” I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make an issue of it. He misunderstood the situation.”

But had Riley actually misunderstood Jett’s intensions? What Jett said had hurt her. A lucky call.

“A friend?” Jett shrugged. “Yeah, whatever.” He pressed past her. “Forget it. I wouldn’t want to see his minimum wage check yanked away from him.”