feel like my head is going to explode. The things u said make sense and i want to believe them, but everything isn't always as easy as u make it sound. i feel like i'm way too deep in this ocean to swim my way out now. i'm tangled in things u couldn't possibly understand. Several people are tugging at me, pulling in all different directions. Now u have come into my life and are shaking things up. i think Club Venus is all i'm able to do in life, just trying to survive the best i can. Maybe this is all god has for me.
Jamie
I checked the Sent folder for his reply.
Jamie,
I enjoyed talking with you as well. You sell yourself so short. You're intelligent, caring, and, yes, beautiful, but not just in the way men see you. You have inner beauty that shines because that's the way God made you. He created you special, and I have no doubt He allowed our paths tocross for a reason. You've been through a lot in your life, and I know things don't seem fair or right. But I truly believe God has created you for a greater purpose than what you're doing now. I'm not trying to condemn or judge you, but I want you to know that God has so much more for you. I hope you'll consider what we've talked about. I'm here if you need anything, and I'm praying for you.
David
Crevis's police gear rattled down the corridor toward me, giving me enough time to close out of the program before he made it to the lobby. I picked up my Sudoku book just as he rounded the corner. His shoulders slumped forward as he dragged his feet along the carpet; he exhaled in an overly dramatic manner and plopped onto the chair next to me.
I peered over my book, gave him the eye, then returned to my puzzle. I'd been working this one for some time, and I couldn't seem to get the rhythm. It wasn't especially hard, but for some reason, I was lost in this thing.
Crevis released another deep moan and spun the chair just enough for his baton to knock against the arm of my chair, much like a puppy scratching at my leg for attention.
I tried to focus on my puzzle. It was frustrating me, and I considered going to the back of the book for the answers, but I've never done that in my adult life on any puzzle, and I wasn't about to start now. It was like admitting full-on defeat.
The third and loudest sigh caused me to close my book and ask the dreaded question, “What's up, Crevis?”
“I got this in the mail today.” He handed me a letter.
It was from the City of Orlando Human Resources Department—a well-written rejection letter for the position of police officer. He had failed his written exam and was no longer in consideration. Glad to see the city still held to some kind of standard.
“I failed it again.”
“Again?”
“This was my second turn,” Crevis said. “At this rate, I'm never gonna be a cop.”
“How could you fail this test… twice? A baboon with a Magic Marker could pass that thing.”
“You're not helping, Ray.”
I wasn't trying to. No need to tell him that.
“I have a hard time writin'. My teachers said I'm learning disabled, dyslexic. My dad says I'm an idiot. He doesn't want me to be some stinkin cop anyway. Some Orange County deputies beat him up a couple of years ago, so he hates the idea of me being a cop. But I don't care what he thinks. I'm gonna do it anyway.”
His dad sounded like a sweet guy. “Why do you want to be a cop? Be a fireman. Everybody loves firemen. People are happy to see them show up at a scene. Nobody likes the police. Do anything else but law enforcement, Crevis. I'm telling you that for your own good.”
“Don't want to be a fireman. That's no fun. I wanna catch bad guys. I wanna be there when people need help… and make a difference. I just don't want to sit back and do nothin. I've seen what that looks like.”
Maybe Crevis had some free thought pinging around in that ugly melon of his after all. I took out my wallet and lifted my badge to eye level. “It's just a piece of tin. After fifteen years and my
Jamie
I checked the Sent folder for his reply.
Jamie,
I enjoyed talking with you as well. You sell yourself so short. You're intelligent, caring, and, yes, beautiful, but not just in the way men see you. You have inner beauty that shines because that's the way God made you. He created you special, and I have no doubt He allowed our paths tocross for a reason. You've been through a lot in your life, and I know things don't seem fair or right. But I truly believe God has created you for a greater purpose than what you're doing now. I'm not trying to condemn or judge you, but I want you to know that God has so much more for you. I hope you'll consider what we've talked about. I'm here if you need anything, and I'm praying for you.
David
Crevis's police gear rattled down the corridor toward me, giving me enough time to close out of the program before he made it to the lobby. I picked up my Sudoku book just as he rounded the corner. His shoulders slumped forward as he dragged his feet along the carpet; he exhaled in an overly dramatic manner and plopped onto the chair next to me.
I peered over my book, gave him the eye, then returned to my puzzle. I'd been working this one for some time, and I couldn't seem to get the rhythm. It wasn't especially hard, but for some reason, I was lost in this thing.
Crevis released another deep moan and spun the chair just enough for his baton to knock against the arm of my chair, much like a puppy scratching at my leg for attention.
I tried to focus on my puzzle. It was frustrating me, and I considered going to the back of the book for the answers, but I've never done that in my adult life on any puzzle, and I wasn't about to start now. It was like admitting full-on defeat.
The third and loudest sigh caused me to close my book and ask the dreaded question, “What's up, Crevis?”
“I got this in the mail today.” He handed me a letter.
It was from the City of Orlando Human Resources Department—a well-written rejection letter for the position of police officer. He had failed his written exam and was no longer in consideration. Glad to see the city still held to some kind of standard.
“I failed it again.”
“Again?”
“This was my second turn,” Crevis said. “At this rate, I'm never gonna be a cop.”
“How could you fail this test… twice? A baboon with a Magic Marker could pass that thing.”
“You're not helping, Ray.”
I wasn't trying to. No need to tell him that.
“I have a hard time writin'. My teachers said I'm learning disabled, dyslexic. My dad says I'm an idiot. He doesn't want me to be some stinkin cop anyway. Some Orange County deputies beat him up a couple of years ago, so he hates the idea of me being a cop. But I don't care what he thinks. I'm gonna do it anyway.”
His dad sounded like a sweet guy. “Why do you want to be a cop? Be a fireman. Everybody loves firemen. People are happy to see them show up at a scene. Nobody likes the police. Do anything else but law enforcement, Crevis. I'm telling you that for your own good.”
“Don't want to be a fireman. That's no fun. I wanna catch bad guys. I wanna be there when people need help… and make a difference. I just don't want to sit back and do nothin. I've seen what that looks like.”
Maybe Crevis had some free thought pinging around in that ugly melon of his after all. I took out my wallet and lifted my badge to eye level. “It's just a piece of tin. After fifteen years and my
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