“Skip, I’m glad that I caught up with you today,” he said. “If you are just coming in, I’d like to ask your opinion on something that the Lord has placed on my heart.” “Sure, Gabriel, let’s sit down, get some coffee, and you can tell me about what’s on your heart,” I replied.
WA R C O U N C I L No Greater Love by Craig Ruhl War Council is a work of fiction created by Craig Ruhl. This month we are pleased to present Chapter Four of War Council, No Greater Love. Look for continuing chapters in future issues. Craig’s bio appears at www.faithoneverycorner.com/meet-our-contributors.html War Council is copyrighted by Craig Ruhl 2020, all rights reserved. My visits to the Millville diner became more and more frequent. I liked the people I had met at the diner, both employees and customers alike. A friendship was forming with the employees and with the small group of men, called The War Council who gathered at the enormous round table in the back of the diner. Winter had faded and now spring was in full bloom. The Easter celebration at the Methodist church was beautiful and uplifting, but now a memory. We were coming into a time of year I think of as a “patriotic” season, starting with Memorial Day in the last part of May and continuing through the Independence Day on July 4th. During this time of year, I am reminded of how grateful I am to be an American. Tori and my family trees have many ancestors who served our country. Both of us are proud and thankful, and especially so at this time of year. Just past noon on a bright May afternoon, I parked in front of the Millville diner. As I was getting out of my car, I heard my name being called from across the parking lot. It was my recent new friend Gabriel Martin waving his hand and hurrying over to me. 20 | ON M AG A Z I N E N ACORNER ME FAITH EVERY
We seated ourselves at the round table where the men of the War Council met. On some days, men occupied most of the seats around the table, but today, it was just us, Gabriel and me. Kris, the server on duty, waved at us from behind the counter and then came over to the table carrying a coffee pot in one hand and a pitcher of water in the other. The diner staff had already set the table with silverware wrapped in paper napkins, water glasses, and coffee mugs in front of each seat. Menus were on the table next to the napkin holder and condiments. Kris filled our water glasses and poured us each a cup of coffee. Kris smiled and said, “I’ll be right back with a pot of decaf for the guys just coming in.” I looked up and noticed that Nick Turner, the used-car dealer, was just coming in the front door. With him was another man that I had not seen before. They made their way over to our table and before sitting down, Nick introduced the man to me. “Skip, I want you to meet Jonas Stevenson, another member of our group.” As I stood to shake his hand, Nick continued, “Jonas, this is Skip Howland, the fellow I was telling you about.” Jonas, smiling, said to me, “Nice to meet you, Skip, and welcome to our little group.” “My pleasure,” I replied with a smile. “It is great to be meeting more of the men and I look forward to our new friendships.” Kris came back to the table holding two pots of coffee, one regular and one labeled decaf. She filled two more mugs for Nick and Jonas from the decaf pot. From her apron pocket, she produced two little packages of honey. She smiled at Jonas and said, “Here
