Wheeling Gull Isle healed

if he had a collar, he would be hot beneath it.

as it stood now, he roasted underneath seasalt curls. to lead so many, all who came to here him. missionary days felt behind him. now he would house a church, lead worships to God.

his gaze fluttered beneath even curled lashes! how did he manage to feel so boyish when everything he had worked for was placed before him?

God delivered.

i will learn if i am, won't i? the first crack to the man beneath his stoicism. some days i wonder if i will...wake up.

a dream.

he did not vocalize it fully.