You Deserve Better

Zephaniah
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PSALM 55:22

Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved.

Sitting in one of the Christ café booths, I tug at my sleeves, trying to shake off the feeling of eyes on me. Joel knows I avoid places like this, where it feels like everyone's staring. My past has a way of creeping into the present, making me feel like I can't just blend in.

"Relax kid, you look like you're hiding a drugs up your sleeves or something. Take it easy." Joel speaks noticing how anxious I am,

I understand how powerful everything was the other day in pastor Davis's office I truly know I had an encounter but even more than that I received something that can only be given by God, but I can't let that turn me into a fool.

I still have a past that I can't just sweep under the rug. I have eyes on me all the time whenever I come outside, I never doubt that anyone who looks at me twice is wondering if they spotted the right person or not.

My mind always convinces me that anyone around me has been hurt by me, has had family killed me. I look to my shaking hands. I still envision blood on them... I just can't get out of my own mind.

"I know you don't like coming outside, and I've never bothered to ask you why before. Maybe it's none of my business, but I don't know... I just feel like-" he holds himself back looking down to his own hands crossed on the table now.

He's nervous and he's never nervous! My heart misses a beat.

"I feel like there's something that we may have built here, you know? Between me Stephanie and yourself." I stew in my own silence. Unsure of what to say but watching all my fears come true.

They are attached. This is exactly what I didn't want because it makes them liable, when the police come to get me and when the judge questions in court, it puts them in jeopardy.

"I'm not trying to pry, or put any pressure on you but we really do care about you- in that room some things were said that I feel like we should talk about-Maybe as... family?" I purse my lips so tight they might fall off, he notices and immediately pulls back

"I mean as men. There are things we should talk about as men-" he coughs

Joel shifts in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck, his usual confidence faltering a little. He lets out a low, awkward chuckle.

"Look, I'm not exactly the best at saying these things," he starts, eyes on his hands rather than me. "But... I guess what I'm trying to say is, you matter. To me, to Stephanie."

He pauses, weighing his next words carefully, like he knows I might pull away if he pushes too hard.

"And... well, whatever comes of what was said back there, in that room," he clears his throat, "I just want you to know, that's not something that changes easy, you know?" He lets out a nervous sigh, drumming his fingers on the table. "Family... it's not as breakable as we sometimes think."

"Family?" I ask, my voice coming out way more direct than expected. "Why do you keep using that word?" I mutter

Joel clears his throat, clearly feeling the pressure of the silence between us. He glances around the café like he's hoping for a lifeline.

"Uh... yeah," he says, his voice stumbling a bit. "I- I guess... 'family' is, uh, a big word, huh?" He gives a nervous chuckle, then catches himself, going quiet again.

He clears his throat, voice softer this time, almost like he's second-guessing every word. "I don't mean to make this... weird, or anything. I just... I don't know, I didn't want you to think... well, with everything going on, that you're alone. Or that... we don't care." He's fumbling now, his hands moving restlessly, his gaze darting to the table.